A WISH TO A CHILD
by Spirit Burner AKA Chick Feed
Summary: It was too late for Sam, so the wish Dean would have made had he known he made for the others, hoping it might keep them safe at night. It didn't always work. - Canon multi-chap case fic. Hurt, angry, distressed, determined Dean / Worried, hurt, resolute Sam. Brothers working together, fighting each other, looking out for one another. Multi o.c.'s, and the Un-sidhe fey. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N. Slightly different to my usual style (I hope) but not too way off. Aiming to post at least once per week.  
_Spoilers : Vague reference to S6 Ep:9 _Clap your hands..._

Disclaimer : Clearly I have no official tie to Kripke's Supernatural what-so-ever. I don't have his genius for a start :(

* * *

It was too late for Sam, and so the wish Dean would have made had he  
known, he made for the others, hoping it might keep them safe at night.

**A WISH TO A CHILD**

**PROLOGUE**

-o-o-o-

Dean Winchester loved the night. The air was somehow clearer, he could breathe easier, for some reason he could run faster and his senses were always at their sharpest at night. He could walk the quite streets and not feel afraid as he silently passed rows of darkened homes, the inhabitants fast asleep, unaware of the Hunter walking along the deserted sidewalk. Now and then he'd see a house with one upstairs light still on, and he would smile. Most times, he knew, inside those particular houses, tucked up in bed would be a child who needed a light left on to keep the terrors of the night at bay _Sensible kid _He always made a wish when he saw those single hallway lights still on, and it was always the same wish; that the child inside may never come to realise that those things which haunted them within their dreams were very, _very _real.

**-o-o-o-o-**

**C1**

-o-o-o-

_**Come away, oh human child!  
**__**To the waters and the wild  
**__**With a faery, hand in hand.  
**__**For the world's more full of weeping, than you can understand. **Yeats._

-o-

Dean hadn't been able to sleep. He'd tried the usual, simple breathing techniques that were supposed to encourage a feeling of calm. Muscle relaxing exercises to try relieving the restlessness he felt throughout his whole body. Counting dead Wendigo. Tuning into and focusing on the soft sound of his brother's breathing. None of these were working for him that night. He'd considered searching for a case on Sam's laptop, but knew that the light from the screen and the sound of himself hitting the keyboard might well serve to disturb Sam's sleep. The case they thought they had found turned out to be a bust and, with nothing else on the horizon, Dean was feeling like he was all dressed up with nowhere to go. Outside the night sky was clear of cloud and a hunters moon shone down, highlighting the dusting of early spring frost that glittered on the body of the Impala parked opposite Dean and Sam's room. Dean glanced over to where Sam still slept soundly, and then down at himself dressed in his usual sleepwear of joggers and tee. With a small shrug, Dean padded across to his bed, retrieving his boots and yesterday's socks from where he had dumped them on the floor at the side of his bed.

-o-

Grabbing his room key and shucking on his jacket, Dean dropped his cell in one pocket and, ever the Hunter, the Glock at his back. A final look at Sam, ensuring his brother hadn't been woken by his moving around the room, Dean let himself out. Locking the door behind him, he stepped away from it and paused. Closing his eyes, he felt the cold of the night air touching his face. He took a slow, deep breath, taking in the clean, crisp scent; his breath forming a curling cloud as he exhaled. Randomly choosing a direction, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking, enjoying that sense of being the only person in the whole world to be out and about.

-o-

Having no other purpose than to walk off his restlessness, Dean entertained himself looking at the houses he walked past, trying to decide which one he would choose for himself and Sam to live in. Some were, he felt, too big and imposing for just the two of them. He also discounted any that had an unfenced and open front lawn. A couple he threw out because of the busily planted frontage, neither he or Sam were keen gardeners. Although he wondered if that would alter, were it their own garden space? Dean grinned at the instant image of Sam, complete with flower patterned rubber household gloves and a wooden trug hanging over one arm, wandering around pruning dead rose heads with his manly pair of clippers.

-o-

Every now and then he spotted a family style house with the upstairs landing light turned on. And each time without fail, Dean made his wish on behalf of the child who was, hopefully, sleeping peacefully within. Although he had been walking for half an hour or so, diverting down the occasional side alley, or on a whim choosing to wander along a different street or down an alternative avenue, Dean was unconcerned, knowing he would have no difficulties finding his way back to the motel. His accurate sense of direction had always been one of his innate gifts and had come in extremely useful on a number of hunts, when he and Sam had managed to get turned around whilst chasing after some supernatural creature or other. Even when hunting through unfamiliar territory, Dean could rely on that sense of direction to keep them on the right track when the sky was heavy with cloud cover, or they had no map to follow. Looking at his watch, Dean decided to head back to the motel and try to get some sleep before daylight harassed the dark of the night away.

-o-

He was less than five minutes into the return journey, when his attention was attracted by a noise like breaking glass. The crisp night air could be misleading, making sounds originating some distance away seem like they were occurring within mere yards of the listener. Most people might be fooled, but not Dean. He was already running, guessing that he had a distance of roughly a quarter of a mile to cover, when the unmistakeable sound of a baby's cry started, and was then abruptly cut short, as though a hand had been put over the baby's mouth, thereby quelling the infant's squalls.

-o-

_A baby!_ Dean's concern flared higher, now joined and given backup by rising anger and, somehow, his speed managed to increase still further. His mind focused on the baby and what might, or might not, be happening on the next street, Dean abandoned all caution, heading toward a narrow cut-through that connected the street he was on, to the one where the baby's cries had sprung from. Although there was no further sound, every instinct screamed to him that something was wrong; something was dreadfully wrong! And Dean was _determined _to find out what.

-o-

Turning onto the path that was cast into shadow by the high wooden fence bordering it on either side, Dean's heart leaped when he saw a short, dark figure scampering swiftly down towards him, a baby sized bundle in it's arms.

-o-

Skidding to a halt, Dean reached for his gun at the same time that he shouted to the on-coming figure.

"_Hold it right there pond scum!_ Or I _swear_ I'll shoot both your knees out!"

The figure slowed by a fraction. White eyes with a small black dot of a pupil set into a large, melon shaped head, narrowed as it weighed up the threat blocking it's exit. The figure changed pace, moving at a freakishly fast run straight for Dean. No longer able to risk shooting, Dean saw the closing figure let go of the baby with one hand, raising that same hand it unfurled a long, gnarled finger and pointed directly at the Hunter. There was no sideways option open, and going backwards wouldn't serve to move Dean out of the thing's line of sight, forcing Dean to take the only evasive manoeuvre left to him. He had to go forward and down. With a sudden and startling turn of speed, the Hunter executed a graceful swan dive to the ground.

-o-

Dean's intention to roll, grab the little guy's legs and yank him down to the ground to subdue the thing never happened. The crackle and buzz of static electricity filled the air, and piercing waves of lava hot agony speared the length of Dean's spine, temporarily nullifying his ability to either cry out in pain, or to breathe. He desperately wanted to curl up into a ball and hold on to himself until the pain passed, but there was no response from his body other than a weak, fish like, flapping of his arms and the turn of his head. Helpless, Dean watched as the creature turned to look at him, before raising one oversized hand and giving a slow wave, then blinking out of existence.

-o-

Sam's dream was rudely interrupted by the intrusive sound of his cell's ring tone. Refusing to open his eyes, Sam reluctantly stuck a hand out from the warmth of the bedclothes and began to pat around on the top of his bedside cabinet, annoyed when his phone stopped ringing before he found it. Sam decided to let his voicemail deal with the call and retracted his hand back into the warmth, wondering if he'd be able to pick up the dream where it had left off? The sound of his ring tone a second time, dragged a groan out of him. Irritated, Sam opened one eye, successfully managing to grab the phone this time.

"Uh huh?"

"Sam?...S'at you?"

"Um...Yeah...Hold on..."

Sam frowned in the confusion of being hauled unwillingly awake, and turned his head to stare at his brother's empty bed.

"S'm? Y'there?"

"Yeah, er...How come you're not in your bed?"

"Couldn't sleep. ... There's bin a thing...C'n you...Y'know...Come get me?...Can't geddup."

**-o-o-o-o-**

_Thank you for reading_


	2. Chapter 2

**C2**

-o-o-o-

Dean could tell Sam the direction that he had taken, but had no clue as to the names of any of the streets close to where he was, and Sam's zero to ten scale of _How worried am I about my pain-in-the-ass brother?_ kept creeping up every time Dean's voice seemed to fade or he heard the hitched sound that he recognised as his brother trying to breath around his hurt.

"Dean, don't..._Do _anything, ok? I'll get a fix on you and be right there."

-o-

Dean lifted his head off the litter strewn floor and had another go at persuading his uncooperative body to at least make it as far as sitting up, but finding it was a continuing no go. Feeling more than slightly idiotic about how helpless he was currently, Dean could do nothing except wait to see if it was the police, called out by a family frantic at the theft of their child, or Sam who arrived and found him laid out like a corpse on a slab first.

-o-

By the time Dean heard the familiar sound of the Impala's rumble drawing closer, there was no indication of the police having been called out in response to the child abduction. Feeling unsettled by the lack of activity, Dean tried telling himself that maybe the baby's family hadn't been woken by the sound of glass breaking, and so were unaware what had happened as yet. His darker side imagined that the rest of the family had been murdered whilst they slept. He needed Sam to go have a look around. The odd appearance of the abductor, combined with his really odd _disappearance_, left Dean with the awful thought that he and his brother might just have walked straight in to their next hunt. The query tapping at the back of his brain, keen to consider whether he would ever be able to walk in to anything ever again, duly had the metaphorical curtains pulled across, firmly shutting it out of sight.

-o-

Sam drove slowly down the empty residential street, scanning the sidewalk on both sides, frustrated that he was unable to see Dean anywhere, despite knowing this was the area that his brother's call had originated from. He had driven over half the length of the avenue, when he finally spotted the narrow entrance to what looked like an interconnecting pathway, fenced either side, and leading directly through to the next tree lined avenue of residential houses.

-o-

"Dean?"

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

Squatting at his brother's side, Sam quickly cast an eye up and down the length of Dean's body, his worry easing when he saw no signs of blood.

"You comfy there?"

"Not so much."

The grimace on Dean's face and the perspiration on his brow reinforced his words. Sam nodded his understanding.

"What happened?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. When a Winchester's about, the fugly's come out. Short note version? Heard breaking glass, next thing ET's taller, and faster, cousin comes running my way holding a baby...

"A human baby?"

S'right. Anyway, I lost. The thing just wiggled it's finger, zapped me, then disappeared. Like _poof,_ it's gone, and the baby with it...D'you mind? You just gonna leave me lying here while you feel me up, or what?"

Sam was efficiently running his hands over Dean's legs and up his arms as Dean spoke. He frowned at the lack of resistance against his grip, but was satisfied he could feel no obvious fractures.

"Can you move at all?"

"Sure. But why would I want to? When I can stay flat on my back in all this litter? _No _I can't move, _moron_!"

"Dean!"

"Okay...My arms. It takes time, but I've managed to get them to shuffle, and my head."

"Nothing else?"

Dean looked up at his younger brother, and Sam saw in Dean's eye's, the contained anxiety strumming beneath the surface of his outer calm.

"Not yet."

Dean didn't much like the decisive nod of his brother's head.

"Sam?"

Sam's phone was already in his hand.

"Sorry Dean, I daren't risk moving you. I've got to call 911."

"_But_...!"

Sam raised his hand to silence his agitated brother, receiving a promisory glare in return.

"Hi, yeah. I need an ambulance..."

-o-

Sam could see that Dean was into sulk mode, although Dean had never accepted that he sulked, he insisted that he just_ mulled things over._ Sam shrugged.

"Give me the silent treatment as much as you like bro'. We don't know if there's any physical damage, like to your spine or neck, and I'm not prepared to be the _cause _of any, by trying to move you myself."

Dean gave Sam a bright, totally false, smile.

"No, no. I get that Sammy. You're _sooo_ right. I mean, I'm not laying here for fun, am I? Still, it's not like I've any _reason_ to be concerned that a baby's probably been snatched from it's home; a home that's been broken into and yet, there's no sign of the cops that should be crawling all over this place. Nope. So there's no _reason_ for me to be feelin' even a little bit worried or curious, and I would never_ dream_ of thinkin' you might, say...Have a stroll down the next street, seein' if you can spot the relevant house and then try to figure out why there's no distraught mother. What would be the point of _that_ eh? It's much better that we both sit here, waiting for an ambulance, 'cos my legs are feelin' a bit wobbly."

In his anxiety about his brother, Sam had almost completely forgotten how it was that Dean had come to be lying on the ground in the first place. He raised both hands in surrender.

"_Ok_! I grant you, if someone's baby's been taken, it should be a lot busier around here right now. I'll go take a look, but the _moment_ I hear sirens, I'm heading straight back here. I can always come back here later in the day and have a sniff around, once you're safely in a hospital and we know what's happening with you. Deal?"

Dean hesitated before reluctantly giving Sam a short nod.

"Deal."

-o-

Sam checked his watch. At four in the morning, those people who worked early shifts would begin to respond to the unwelcome command of their alarms within the next hour, right now however, the houses and their occupants were still silent and dark. All except one. Keeping within the lea of walls and hedges Sam quickly, quietly, made his way closer to the house in which the downstairs lights were turned on. From his position on the street, Sam could see across the grassed frontage that one of the ground floor windows had been broken. The light was on in what appeared to be the kitchen area and he could see the shape of a woman standing within. She appeared to be swaying from side to side. Aware that his time was limited, Sam moved swiftly, keeping himself low and out of the direct line of sight from the broken window. Flattening himself with his back against the front of the house, he sidled as close as he dare to the window, noting the broken glass littering the ground outside and being careful to avoid crushing any shards underfoot, not wanting to alert the occupant to his presence. As close as he now was, Sam could hear the sound of the woman softly singing _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._ Holding his breath, he moved his head just enough to glance at the scene inside. His eyes opened wide, startled at what he witnessed before he quickly drew back. Motionless he paused, back flat to the house wall, trying to process what he had seen. In the distance he heard the sound of a siren. Unable to do anything more at the house, Sam silently made his way back to the sidewalk, before breaking into a run which had him racing against the siren sounds to get back to his brother before the paramedics arrived.

-o-

Reaching his older brother's side, Sam shoved his news to the back of his mind and switched his priority back on to Dean, noting how much paler his brother looked and that Dean was breathing more heavily than when Sam had left him, obviously still battling against his pain. The two Hunters had less than a minute in which to prepare their story, before the ambulance pulled onto the street where Sam had parked the Impala. Jogging to stand by the car, Sam signalled his presence to the ambulance driver and using a few basic hand signs, instructed him to park up directly behind Dean's baby.

**-o-o-o-**


	3. Chapter 3

**C3**

-o-o-o-

Sam nervously moved closer to the gurney and looked down at Dean. An oxygen mask covered most of his brother's face and he had been strapped into a protective neck brace before being straight lifted onto the gurney.

How is he? Is he going to be ok?"

One of the paramedics smiled at Sam.

"They'll be able to tell you more once he's been seen back at the hospital. Possible spinal injuries aren't something you mess with my friend. We've administered some pain control and we've lightly sedated him to stop him from moving till he's been checked out. The neck brace is standard procedure, a precaution. Did _you_ see the guy that your brother claims has taken a baby?"

"No. I didn't even know Dean had gone for a walk until he managed to ring me. I was still asleep. I've walked through to the other street though, noticed there's a house further down that's got the ground floor lights on."

"Well, we've put a call in and the police are sending a car out to sweep the area and check out your brother's story. I've no doubt they'll want to speak with him, and you, later.

-o-

"Sam Osborne?"

Sam gave the bright eyed nurse standing at his side a smile.

"That's me. Is Dean back from his x-rays?"

"Yes, all done! He's booked in for a full CT scan this afternoon so he's being admitted onto the assessment ward for now. The good news is that he seems able to move a little more now than when he first arrived, and he said the pain's reduced a lot. Course, that'll partially be down to the pain killers he was first given. He's still not allowed up off his bed though till we've done all the investigations and we know what's what. I'm assuming you'd like me to take you to go see him?"

"Thanks, yes. That'd be great."

-o-

On the ward, the cheery nurse introduced Sam to the older, stern looking woman who was the Senior Ward Manager. Her expression changed the moment she was introduced, there was a definite twinkle in her eyes as she took his hand warmly,

"Ahhh. The brother of our _exceptionally_ popular new young patient. I'm pleased to meet you...er...Sam? Your brother has been asking for you. If you'll follow me? Very unusually, virtually_ all_ my female staff have volunteered to be his named nurse whilst he's here, including two who are currently on their days off but rang in to volunteer themselves! I can only assume one of the duty nurses has contacted them and told them about your brother. I'm going to have to keep an eye on him, for his own protection. Actually, I'm now thinking I may have to watch out for you too! I can't run a busy ward with a team of giggling, goggle eyed nurses all neglecting the other patient's now, can I?"

Blushing, Sam gave the woman a weak smile, which clearly served only to increase her amusement.

-o-

"But, Sam! I dunno what all the fuss is about. Look...I can wiggle my toes, my fingers, my nose. Just about everything, know what I'm sayin'?"

"Good to know and, _please_, no more! The ward manager told me there's no fractures, no muscle damage that they could find. So, what _did_ that thing do to you? Was it like you were paralysed?"

"No. No, just weak is all. Like all my muscles had turned to jello? It was a helluva battle just to drag my phone out, kept losing my grip on it. Had to put it on the floor to ring you. Speaking of, why didn't you answer first time?"

"Didn't get to it in time. I'm sorry."

"Apology excepted. Now, c'mon. Tell me what happened when you reccied the next street. Did you spot anything? Have we got a case here?"

Sam's expression was serious.

"Oh yeah...I'd _definitely _say there's a case here. Although we might have to pass it onto someone else. Unless you're happy for me to work it alone?"

-o-

The ward manager popped her head around the door and suggested, politely, than Dean might want to lower the volume of his cursing a little.

-o-

Having relayed to his older brother what he had seen, there followed a brief period of silence, during which Dean simply stared at Sam in astonishment. When he finally regained the power of speech, Dean's shock was reflected in his voice.

"A _log_?"

Despite having seen it with his own eyes, Sam's own voice still sounded a little like Sam himself couldn't quite believe it either.

"That's what I said...A log. She was trying to feed a bottle of baby milk to a log. And, did I mention how she was singing to it and rocking it in her arms?"

"I'm sorry? She was...? Hang on...What the _Hell_ do you sing to a _log_?"

"Not that I think it matters but, she was singing _You are my sunshine_."

"To a log?"

"I'm afraid so_._"

"This is an _actual_ log?"

"_Yes_ Dean. A log. _Jeeze_. Get over it already!"

"I'm tryin' but, I can't help thinkin' about how it coulda been worse."

"Are you kidding? How could it?"

"Well...At least she was bottle feeding!"

"_**Dean**__!"_

-o-

C'mon Sammy...You _gotta_ get me outta here! There's a woman who's probably already tryin' to figure how to get a diaper on a log, there's a _baby_ out there somewhere who needs to be with it's mommy, and there's a creature that needs to know it's about to die."

"I agree, and as soon as your legs are more stable than two lengths of rubbery spaghetti, we'll be on it. Till then, I need as much detail as you can give me so we can try figuring out who, or what, took the little one; and why. You're stuck here for now, so you might as well chill. I'll go back to the motel, get you some clean clothes and come back with the laptop. Best offer you're getting off me I'm afraid."

-o-

"So, short, big headed, white eyes and a really long finger, it's a start. Clarify_ long_."

"Look it up."

"Sulk all you want, but you've still not got your full feeling back and no _way_ I'm gonna help you escape from here, so you might as well help me with the research. Right, _how_ short would you say it was? When you say big head, do you mean over-blown ego, like yours, or overgrown head, like abnormally large?"

Dean glowered at his brother, still aggrieved at having been told by his Doctor that they were keeping him in hospital over-night. His x-rays had come back clear, showing nothing had been broken; and Dean had regained a degree of further movement and strength in his limbs so, as far as _he_ was concerned, that meant he was "fine". However, both Sam and his Doctor disagreed with his view and had ganged up on him. Right now, Sam had a steadfast _suck it up_ expression on his face. Dean's shoulders slumped and he sighed in defeat.

"_Fine_!...Over-sized head for it's scrawny assed body, and it's finger seemed to be way longer than is normal. Oh, and his fingernail looked over grown and kinda spirally.

"What about how tall this thing was?"

"Hard to say really, it was partially bent over, like it should'a been using a walking frame. Say somewhere between four six and five foot max, if it _could_ stand upright."

"What else?"

"Here's one. Despite how it looked, that damn thing could _move_ Sam. Like Warp Factor 9 move? Then it hit me with some kinda spell, did something that screwed with my spine, an' it was game over for me at that point. I remember seeing it jump over me, but I couldn't move my arms to grab at it. I just had to lay there, like a huge blob of dough. I _do_ remember it wasn't exactly wearing much, just some striped loin cloth style number, and it's legs reminded me of skinny little chicken legs."

"What about the upper body?"

"Hard to say. Like I told you, it was partially bent over. The whole thing was dark in colour, hairless..."

"Got it!"

"Lemme see."

"Here...That look anything like you saw?"

"Awesome! That's_ exactly_ what I saw Sammy...So, what the frigg _is _that thing?"

**-o-o-o-**


	4. Chapter 4

**C4**

-o-o-o-

"According to this, it's Fey."

Dean looked again at the image on the laptop screen, this time peering at it from close quarters with both eyebrows drawn together, and an expression Sam recognised as his brother fixed on attempting to figure out something that was puzzling him. Finally Dean sat back.

"Ok. I give up. How can you tell?"

Sam now felt as puzzled as Dean had looked.

"Tell _what_ exactly?"

"How can you tell it's _gay_?"

Sam stared at his brother for a couple of seconds, trying to decide whether Dean was just trying to wind him up.

"_What_?...Why're you staring at me?"

It seemed that Dean was serious. Sam rolled his eyes to Heaven.

"_**Fey**_!..._Numbnuts_! Apparently you ran into something called a Pooka, it's a member of the Un-Sidhe* Fey."

"Ohhh! _Fey_. As in good wholesome Microwave gloopiness? That makes more sense, I _thought_ you'd said ... Actually? Forget it. Okaayyy...So, by _Un_-Sidhe, it means the little guy is a _not_-Sidhe Fey, the opposite of a _Sidhe_ Fey, right?"

"Erm, yeah. But..._Microwave gloopiness_?"

"Don't you remember? Back when I was stuck with that humourless bitch of a black and white photocopy version of you?"**

Sam tilted his head down, recalling his time spent without a soul. There were some events he could remember from that period and, in fact, there were some incidents that Sam was able to recall all _too_ clearly and often wished he couldn't, but an incident with a microwave? After a couple of seconds of thoughtful concentration, Sam had it. Lifting his head, he grinned at Dean.

"Ahh, yes. I've got it now...The watchmaker and the fairies! That case where you managed to get yourself _probed_!"

"_I never said that_!"

Sam's smile grew broader at the tone of strident denial in his brother's voice. Pointedly ignoring Sam, Dean stared back at the image on the screen again.

"That's _great_. Creepy assed fairies again. So, _not_ being Sidhe as opposed to _being_ Sidhe makes it...?"

"Well. For the very slow of thinking amongst us ..."

"_Hey_! Care to tell me when it became pick on big brother day?"

"Since your bottle feeding comment ... _Sidhe _Fey are supposed to be the good guys, like fairy godmother's and Legolass. Un-Sidhe Fey? Take a wild guess."

"Alright Braniac, I get it. This Pooka then, does it...Ah, crap, no! Seriously? _Sonovabitch_! Sammy ... _**Fey**_! ... As in _Changeling_!"

"What? _Chan_...? You _really_ think that's what we've got here?"

"By all means bro' please, prove me wrong. Have you got a more likely scenario? ... Ok, I'll take that as _No_ then. Go on, what's it say about this Pukey?

"Pooka! Why do you always pretend to mishear any new fugly's name?

"Cos it winds you up of course. Why else?"

-o-

Dean listened carefully whilst Sam read out the highlights from the information in front of him.

So, Pooka's. Apparently there's some lore that claims they're able to take on the shape of an animal, with their favourite disguise being a horse. Other legends credit them with having the ability to transform themselves to look like a human. According to this, Pooka are masters in the use of Glamour. They get their fun from manipulating human's. They like to create confusion and distort the truth, muddle the senses and twist a person's judgement. Explains the log then. They create lies and hypocrisy and can make someone see good in the bad, and badness in the good. Seems they've got quite a reputation for messing with your head. This says Pooka's enjoy anything from creating small annoyances like moving the car keys from where they were to somewhere totally ridiculous, like the refrigerator; right up to endangering people's lives. The examples it gives are getting travellers so lost they've no chance of finding the way either to where they were heading, or back to where they set off from. The other example...Oh."

"Oh? What _Oh_?"

Sam looked up from the laptop screen and directly at his brother.

"Up to things like causing fires in people's homes or in crowded places, or turning friends into bitter enemies. And it has no concern if anyone or anything dies as a result of it's actions."

"Those bloat headed little bastards! When we catch that butt ugly, chicken legged troll, he's dead. _Right_?"

"Right!...Ah, listen to this. The Pooka is one of a number of different Fey species known to steal human babies, both male and female..._Shit_!"

Sam paused, clearly distressed as his eyes flicked over the information on the screen, leaving Dean to quickly grow impatient.

"Tell me."

"Sorry, erm, ok. Sometimes they take babies on behalf of other Un-Sidhe fey, who then raise the baby as their own. When the child reaches maturity, it's forced to mate with numerous Fey over a period of one month to strengthen and enrich the Fey bloodline. By the end of the month the man or woman will have been drained of all their life force, at which point they're abandoned and left to die alone. Other Dark Fey need human babies purely as food. Sometimes for themselves, like Black Annis; sometimes to feed their _own_ young. The human baby's blood is drained and fed to Fey babies to help them to thrive. The bodies of the human babies are then simply discarded. Jeeze Dean!"

Dean's voice was soft as he encouraged his younger brother to continue when he saw Sam's distress.

"Yeah, right, um. Ok, so. When a human baby is taken, the Pooka sometimes leave behind a changeling, a Fey baby that's either weak and sickly or badly deformed. They never survive for long and the human parents, for the rest of their lives, believe it was their own baby that died. Other times the Pooka leave behind a log that's had a temporary but strong glamour cast onto it. The glamour fools the human parents into believing the log is their baby. The human parents only accept their mistake once the glamour wears off..."

Eyes narrowed, Dean interrupted.

"Only _accept_ their mistake? Like they won't listen to anybody who tries to tell them they're baby's a hunk of wood? Kinda makes me think this glamour only works on the parents, no one else, which would explain how come _you_ saw the log in that woman's arms, not a baby. And if I'm right, that means everyone is gonna think that poor woman's gone fruitcake, including the cops. She could even end up on a psych ward! We need to find out what's happened to her Sammy."

Sam opened his mouth to answer at the same time as a knock sounded and the door to Dean's room was pushed open by the Senior Ward Manager.

"Excuse me gentlemen. There are two police detectives here who would like to have a chat with the both of you. Is it alright to allow them in?"

-o-

As they were ushered into the room, both men held up their badges for inspection. The older officer, Detective Rocha according to his ID nodded politely at Sam before turning his attention to Dean.

"Mr Osborne? Thanks for agreeing to see us. I guess you know why we're here?"

Dean instinctively felt nervous when the police focused their spotlight on him and he glanced towards Sam, looking for support. Sam stepped forward, placing himself in front of Detective Rocha, his hand already held out to the man in greeting, an affable smile on his face.

"Hi. I'm Dean's brother. I guess you're here about the guy who did this to Dean? Have you found him?"

Caught off guard, the detective automatically shook Sam's hand.

"Mr Samuel Osborne?"

Sam nodded.

"Yes, but I prefer Sam."

The detective inclined his head toward his younger, stockier, companion.

"Detective Phillips and myself are leading on this case. A search of the local area hasn't revealed much I'm afraid, so anything either of you can tell us would be very much appreciated."

Quietly in the background, Phillips watched as Sam moved to stand by his brother's bed, recognising the taller brother's protective action. He guessed that this wasn't the first dealings the injured brother had experienced with the police, and he found himself wondering whether there was more to the guy having been wandering around the residential area in the early hours than him simply being out for a stroll? There was something about how the taller one...Sam, held himself, and the watchfulness in the injured one's eyes - _Crap_ - Phillips gave Dean a small smile when he realised with a start that Dean's watchfulness was being aimed at himself, and that whilst he had been reading the brothers, _this_ one had been carefully reading him. Still gazing at Phillips, Dean gave the smallest nod of his head, and it spoke volumes. Phillips wasn't an idiot, he knew when he was being warned to back off. He also knew when to take that warning seriously, like right now. Having no doubt that Dean could clearly see his discomfort, Phillips diverted his focus on to what his partner was saying.

-o-

"I'm sorry to have to tell you both, but Dean, you were right. That guy you ran into _had_ snatched the baby you saw him carrying. It's a little boy, his name is Daniel, he was taken from home. Best guess at the moment is the guy broke into the house through the back door with the specific intention of taking the baby. We think that somehow the guy must've disturbed the mother, meaning he needed a quick exit, so he escaped with the baby by smashing a window in the kitchen and climbing out. What we _don't_ know is whether he was after any baby he could get hold of and so little Daniel was chosen at random, or whether the boy was an active target for some reason."

At last, Dean spoke.

"How's the kid's mom doin'?"

Rocha sighed and stuffed both hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"When we went in the house...Well, it was obvious the trauma had got to her. That poor lass had lost it, suffered some kind of complete breakdown. I've never come across anything like it before. We called the department psychiatrist out. She's hoping it's only temporary and the woman will come out of it, eventually. The husband, Daniel's dad, was away in Chicago on business. I'll tell you one thing, it's a hard job to have to tell a man by telephone that his baby son's missing, snatched from out of his cot, and that his wife's gone into meltdown. He sounded like his whole world had just fallen apart... Anyways, he's on his way home as we speak.

Dean pressed on.

"What exactly happened to the mom? What do you mean by _gone into_ _meltdown_?"

"When Detective Phillips and I found her? She was cradling a log! We tried everything, but she's absolutely adamant that lump of wood's her baby, wouldn't be parted from it. Honestly man, seeing her talking to it, panicking 'cos she couldn't get the bottle of milk down it...I don't mind admitting, it freaked me out. I'm afraid the best lead we've got right now is you. If you could give us a description of the perp, anything you remember, whether he spoke, anything at all, it would be a _huge_ help Dean."

**-o-o-o-  
******* Pronounced _Ceelie  
_**** **From my short drabble fic entitled : "SEEING IN BLACK AND WHITE"


	5. Chapter 5

**C5**

-o-o-o-

"I don't wanna have'ta let this one go Sammy...

"Dean, we...

Please? Let me finish, ok? No _way_ I want to hand this job over, but I agree with you. The kid...Daniel...He comes first. All I ask is that we give it till tomorrow before we hand this case over to someone else? Give me till then, allow me that much? We can do the research, figure out everything we can and, if this damn spell or whatever it is hasn't worn off by tomorrow? We hand over what we know. Ok?"

Dean's eyes pleaded with Sam to agree and, knowing how bad Dean would be feeling about not having stopped the Pooka, knowing his brother was, in all likelihood, blaming himself that the creature got away; Sam wasn't about to refuse.

"Ok. I really hope we can do this ourselves as well Dean. But I guess if not, at least we'll be saving whoever we call in some research time. For now, I suggest you start seriously working on your wriggling!"

Dean gave Sam a lewd grin.

"Only if you promise you'll look away."

"_Gross_!"

-o-

Dean had been taken down for his scan, and in the silence of the single room, Sam kept seeing the grief stricken woman in his mind's eye, and remembering how totally convinced she was that it was her baby son she held in her arms. Shaking his head to rid himself of the memory, he tried again to keep his focus on trying to find something that would tell him how the Pooka could be killed.

-o-

Sam was laid out fast asleep on top of Dean's bed when the porters wheeled Dean back in to his room on a gurney. Both porters hesitated, not certain how they should proceed. Dean had no such worries as he altered his voice to that of a Sergeant Major, barking out his orders.

"Sammy!_ Sam_...Atten - _**hun**_! _Three seconds_. Off that bed..._**Now**_!"

The porters watched in amazement as the guy their patient called Sam went from prone to upright by the side of the bed like an explosion, even though he hadn't yet opened his eyes and, as a matter of fact, appeared to still be deep in sleep, despite the instant response of his body. Once upright, Sam's eyes flew open and he quickly scanned the area around himself, looking for any threat, before his gaze finally came to rest on his grinning brother. Seeing Sam glare at him through narrowed eyes, Dean raised a hand and gave Sam a cheery wave. Sam's glare instantly morphed into surprise.

"Do that again."

"What? _This_?"

Still sporting his grin, Dean waved using both arms and hands. Sam laughed with delight. The two porter's glanced at one another and silently agreed to get the patient onto his bed as quickly as they could, then get the Hell away from this pair of lunatics! One of the porter's stole a glance at his clip-board and the list of jobs attached to it, just in case this room was on it again. To his relief, it wasn't.

-o-

Dean was in an exceptionally good mood, brought about by his returning movement. It showed in his smiles, it showed in his almost constant chatter and, most of all, it showed in his repeated poking and prodding of Sam, just because he could. As pleased as Sam was that the spell at last was beginning to fade, he soon grew fed up of having to constantly bat Dean's hands away, and he closed the laptop lid before handing it over to his brother.

"Your turn. We need the Dummies Guide to Pooka Ganking, and a way of making the thing come to us, or of getting us to him. I need coffee and food. Want me to bring you something?"

Being reminded that neither of them had eaten, Dean's stomach immediately rumbled and growled.

"I'll take that as a yes."

-o-

Sam ate in the hospital canteen, his mind sifting through strands of the research he had carried out, and in particular, the implications were he and Dean unable to find a way of calling on the Pooka to come to them. Sam simply couldn't fully comprehend the alternative, the risks involved were potentially overwhelming. He found himself pondering on why the Fey, Sidhe and Un-Sidhe alike, couldn't just have had the common decency to stay nothing more than stories in books. In Sam's opinion, that was where they _all _very firmly belonged. He couldn't help but wonder how his dad, the great no nonsense John Winchester, would have reacted to finding out that, on top of everything else, _fairies_ were real too. An amused smile formed on Sam's face at the thought.

-o-

The door to Dean's room opened as Sam approached and the Senior Ward Manager who, it turned out, had in the end nominated herself as Dean's named nurse, backed out whilst still talking to Dean. As Sam stepped out of her path, his eyebrows arched when he overheard the woman's parting shot to his brother.

"My boy, I swear, I could _easily_ take you on and I'd blow you out in tiny little bubbles. Believe me, you simply haven't got the experience!"

There was a broad smile on the woman's face when she turned her back on Dean and she jumped a little at finding Sam in such close proximity, a wry smile on his face.

"Oh! Sam! How long have you been standing here?"

Sam winked down at her.

"Long enough I'm thinking."

"What? I ... Oh. No, no. We were just talking about card games that's all. It was totally innocent..._Really_!"

Sam's smile broadened.

"Of course it was...If you say so."

The Senior Manager shook her head in exasperation.

"Oh no. Don't_ you_ start young man. _One_ clown on my ward is _quite _enough thank you!"

With that, the manager excused herself and hurried away. Dean was sat up in the hospital bed, his eyes lit up when he saw the paper bag in Sam's hand.

"That for me?"

Sam passed the package over to Dean's eager hands.

"Chicken and mayo, not much choice till they re-stock. You two seemed to be hitting it off."

Dean grinned.

"Would you believe the woman thinks she'd beat me? Thinks I don't have the experience to take her down...At poker I mean. Bloody woman!"

Dean took a huge bite out of his sandwich, waving what was left in Sam's direction.

"You'll have to get us another defensive weapon, I'm gonna eat every single piece of this one I'm afraid, I'm starving!"

Sam looked at Dean in confusion.

"Defensive weapon? The crust's not_ that_ hard, is it?"

"Don't think it _has _to be."

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

"Dean, please! I'm tired, too tired for riddles. How's a sandwich a defensive weapon? You planning on cunningly flinging it to the ground in front of the enemy lines so they slip and fall over, allowing us to make our heroic getaway? Or will you be relying on that old favourite? You know, the one where you viciously pound the bad guy about the head with it in the hope you can mayo him into submission?"

"Moron. Both of those moves would make my sandwich an _offensive_ weapon, not a _defensive_ one!"

"Of course. How silly of me!...Ok, I give in. What's with the sandwich?"

"Well, according to a few sources I've come across, we each have a dry piece of bread in our pocket and, hey presto, immune to fey magic!"

Sam stared at the person in the bed who wore a triumphant look on his face. He wondered if maybe his brother was _also _a changeling and, if not, exactly where could he get one from?

"Seriously Dean?"

**-o-o-o-**


	6. Chapter 6

**C6**

-o-o-o-

Drinking his coffee whilst Sam checked for reliable supporting information for the things so far identified on the list of protections, Dean watched whilst he took the opportunity to keep wriggling his toes and checking the level of movement he had in his legs. There was hardly any residual pain left now, and Dean was sure that he wasn't imagining that he was starting to move much more easily. He told himself that, if overcoming his muscle weakness meant he had to stay awake all night, then that's exactly what he would do in order to beat this thing. In his heart, Dean had already fully committed to finding the baby and being able to take him back home to the child's parents. He _had _to fight against what that creature had done to him. This hunt was meant for Sammy and himself, he couldn't _think _about anyone else taking it! - _Not gonna happen_ - The last time he came face to face with the Pooka he wasn't ready for it. This time, he would be.

"Everything seem kosher so far?"

Sam sat back and stretched.

"Looks like, even down to your bread shield! And, lucky for us, none of the stuff it says we need is hard to find at all. How're _you_ doin'?"

"Improving by the minute. What about calling out old Pukey? I found one site blah blahing on about Moon Water, but you can't do nothin' without a full moon, even then you're left lookin' at another five days after chanting your socks off. We don't have the time for any of that. There's the old leaving out a saucer of cream trick, but it doesn't come with a guarentee we'd get the right thing. We could end up with the Tooth Fairy ... _Sammy_!...You don't think...?"

"Stop right there! I _absolutely_ refuse to believe that the tooth fairy is real! Moving on, I found something when I was looking earlier about leaving out a bowl of water near the area where the thing you want to call lives. The theory goes it attracts the fairy creature who'll come to wash the baby in the water. Now, unless there's no water in ... and I can't believe I'm saying this ... _Fairy Land_, I'm not sure why it would work? What I _did _wonder though, is how about instead of the water, we put out something that belongs to Daniel, something the baby might want to have?"

"You mean like his favourite teddy or a comfort blanket? ... Sam? Do you remember yours?"

"My what?"

"Comfort blanket. It was pale peach, really soft and fluffy with a satin edge. You'd screw part of that edging up in your fist, stuff a satiny bit in your mouth and suck on it all night. If it wasn't in the cot, you'd scream so hard that your whole body would join in. Your hands waving around, tiny fists clenching and unclenching, podgy legs kicking and all of your toes would curl up tight. You put so much effort into it, you always turned a kinda deep puce colour. Actually, thinking about it, you don't look so different _now_ when you're throwing a strop!"

"_Dean_! I do _not_ throw strops!"

"Yeah, sure. You keep right on tellin' yourself that Sammy."

-o-

The next time the Senior Manager entered her patient's room to check on him, she found Dean and Sam squashed side by side on Dean's bed, their heads bowed, their focus fixed on the screen of their laptop. When she went back in later with a coffee for each of them, they were still in that same attentive bubble. By the third visit, her curiosity couldn't take it any longer and she stood at the bottom of the bed, hands on her hips, looking every inch the no nonsense Senior Manager.

"I hope you two are not perusing any of those so called _adult _sites on my ward? I'm perfectly happy to confiscate that thing if necessary...Well? What're you both up to?"

Sam promptly managed to look like an embarrassed teenager, whereas Dean merely grinned.

"I guess it depends on whether you see this as porn or not."

The manager moved closer as Dean turned the screen to face her. She stared at the title and the cartoon images dotted all over the screen in silence for a brief moment, before looking from Dean to Sam and back again.

"The Wonderful World of Fairies and Their Fair Folk Friends? _Really_?"

Dean feigned a look of hurt and disappointment.

"_Hey_! You need to show a little more respect my lady! Fairy's are people _too_ you know, and they _easily_ get upset."

"Actually, no they aren't, and no they don't. I don't think the Fey give a flying fruitcake what humans do or think, so long as it doesn't interfere with them and their world. That's why the only way you'll find any _real_ fairies here, or anywhere else come to that, is if they _want _you too."

Sam and Dean looked at one another. Sam twitched one eyebrow, signalling that this one was Dean's. Dean shot his brother a swift glare, before switching on a smile and turning back to the manager.

-o-

"Erm, sounds like you're quite the fairy fan? I didn't mean to cause any offence. I mean, Sam here's a fan too! Always has been, ever since he was a little kid. That's ah, that's why we're looking at these sites. You love reading the old fairy legends n' stuff, don't you Sam?"

Dean refused to think about what a very deep pile of trouble he was going to be in later as Sam attempted to recover some dignity for himself out of Dean's claim.

"Um, yeah. Yes. Love them...From the historical perspective, obviously! I mean, it's not like I _believe_ in fairies or anything, 'cos I _don't_."

The Hunters and the Senior Manager all glanced around the room as one, having all heard the soft musical tinkling of a bell. The Senior Manager turned her attention to Sam, narrowing her eyes in anger.

"And there goes_ another_ one of the little dears. What is wrong with you Sam? You of _all_ people should know the power that words can have. Your thoughtless denial has just cost yet _another _one of the fair folk it's life! Why do people keep doing that? They say _I don't_ as though it makes them all grown up and wise. How's it go? Putting aside childish things? Well...You're not as wise and clever as you think you are..._None_ of you!"

The sudden silence hung between the threesome like a thick fog, finally parted by Dean's quiet voice.

"Don't suppose there's something you'd like to share with us about now, is there?"

**-o-o-o-**


	7. Chapter 7

To anyone reading except mb64, flygirl33, jojospn, dianaj2w and karonkgb  
_Early (too early) Sunday morning and I'll be honest, I'm having thoughtful thoughts. Mainly ones that go _**Is this crap**?_ I'm at C15, by which time there's been twists, angst and pranks. Innuendo, sadness, laughter, fear and tragedy. I'm thinking I should alter the rating, I'm still not sure I've allocated the right genres. But, most of all? I'm thinking, should I delete? Reason? I don't think that, other than the 5 encouraging people mentioned, anyone's bothered. That says this fic's not good enough, and I should focus on giving the wildlife pond it's spring cleanup. So, here's C7, then I'm taking my thoughts out into the garden where I'll come to a decision one way or the other :(_

**C7**

-o-o-o-

The Senior Manager's shoulders slumped as her anger drained away and she indicated the bottom of Dean's bed.

"May I?"

Sam closed the laptop, laying it on the hospital cabinet by Dean's bed as the woman sat down wearily. He and Dean neither encouraged nor discouraged her, simply waiting quietly and watching, allowing her the time to gather her thoughts. Finally, she raised her head and looked at the brothers through serious, tired, eyes.

"I know what you are...I know you are both Hunters."

Still sitting alongside Dean, Sam felt him tense in response to the woman's words. Using the smallest of nudges, Sam told Dean not to react too soon, listen to what she had to say.

"And, to put both your busy minds at rest, the answer is _no_, I am _not_ Fey. Sidhe or otherwise. I am what the Fey themselves refer to as a Maiden. And I know that you, Dean, have already been Fey Touched."

Sam couldn't stop Dean from butting in this time.

"_I never said that_!"

The maiden gave Dean a puzzled frown, as Dean's cheeks blossomed pink. Sam interrupted.

"Ignore him, it's just something he gets teased about. When you say you are a maiden...?"

-o-

Dean was pleased to see the woman blush this time and he stared at her, waiting, his expression now smug, challenging her to answer. She responded with a small, embarrassed smile.

"No...I don't mean _that_ kind of maiden. Believe me, I've had my fair share of..._Anyway,_ no. A Maiden,_ capital_ M, is a human female who has, in some way, earned the trust of the Sidhe Fey and as reward the Fey bestow on us the honour of becoming a conduit. My sisters and I serve as a living link between their world and ours."

Sam wanted some clarification in order to check his understanding of the Maiden's explanation of her role.

"I'm assuming that when you say _sisters_, you mean like a sisterhood?"

"Exactly."

"Ok. So, if you're a conduit, does that mean you have the ability to move between here and there?"

"No, although I wish it did. Our acceptance of and openness toward the Fey, creates the bridge that allows _them_ to move between the two worlds. Think of me as a kind of living key for them. The only ability I personally gain from it, is to be able to feel when the bridge is crossed within my area, and in which direction. Nothing more than that, sadly."

Dean leaned forward, attracting the Maiden's attention.

"Can the Un-Sidhe Fey use you to traipse back and forth as well?"

The Maiden shook her head.

"No. They've got their _own_ keys, men who have somehow impressed the Un-Sidhe with the darkness of their deeds. They're known collectively as the Brethren of Betrayers, or singularly, simply as Betrayers and, like myself, there's no mark or sign that sets them apart from anybody else. That's how the Pooka was able to cross over, steal the baby, then return to his own world, taking the human child with him."

"Right. Does that mean there's a Betrayer living in these parts who's being here lets Un-Sidhe scumbags hop over the fence and trespass whenever they feel like it?

"He doesn't necessarily need to live around here. Both Maidens and the Betrayers, simply by existing, enable the Fey to move from their world into whatever part of ours that they care to choose. Stopping the Un-Sidhe's would require the demise of _every_ Betrayer and for that, you would first have to know where to find them all. Even _you _two have to agree, it's a virtually impossible task! And of course, for every one that died, chances are, another Betrayer would very soon be created.

-o-

An elbow in the ribs handed the reigns back to Sam, who didn't hesitate.

"Why're you telling us all this, lady? What's your game? 'Cos if you're hoping to stop us from finding Daniel and bringing him back, my advice to you would be _Don't hold your breath_!"

"I have been asked to help. Believe me, or don't, it's your choice. But taking this child has led to Hunters being involved...That's you two by-the-way. The Fey would prefer _not_ to arouse the curiosity of any more of your kind. Not _all_ Hunters do the job in order to save lives or help people. You must know already that there are those who hunt because they enjoy killing, and some who hunt with one eye permanently scouring around, seeking potential riches? Let me be very clear, if ever humans realised the truth, the Fey lands would _not_ be easily won, if indeed they could be won at all..."

Sam's eyes narrowed.

"For someone who says they're here to help, your little speech there could be taken as quite threatening."

"It wasn't intentional, I was simply speaking the truth...Here..."

The Maiden put a hand inside one of the pockets of her tunic, producing a small vial of acid green liquid which she held out towards Dean.

"Drink it. It will wash the rest of the spell from your body."

Accepting the vial, Dean stared at the contents uncertainly.

"Couldn't you have given me this earlier? I could've been out of here by now!"

The Maiden smiled at the indignant tone in Dean's voice.

"I could have, but I wanted to be sure of your intent. I wasn't about to waste a good potion if you were the kind to just walk away without any thoughts of trying to retrieve the baby. You realise I've taken a huge risk in disclosing what I am and my bond with the Fey?"

Dean unscrewed the lid of the vile and sniffed at the contents hesitantly.

"Why can't the ... _Pheeeeuuw! _You have_ got _to be_ kiddin' _me! _Please_, tell me I don't _drink_ this shit?...I'm supposed to rub it on somewhere..._Right_?"

"Wrong."

"Sammy? Bowl! I think I'm goin' to vomit."

"But Dean, you haven't actually tasted it yet!"

"It's anticipatory vomit."

**-o-o-o-**


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for my wake up & shake up. It never entered my pea sized brain that I should always write for my _own_ entertainment, even when I'm posting what I write! Instead, I've always stuck to posting only the things I've written with the specific purpose and hope of entertaining others. Writing and posting for my own pleasure is  
__going to be a hard switch to make, but I promise I'm gonna try. It is for _my_ pleasure, then, that I post chap 8...So there! :D Chick xx  
_**C8**

-o-o-o-

The concoction tasted as vile as it's stench had promised and Dean was soon gagging for real as he fought to keep the contents of his stomach out of the public domain and down in the dark, where it belonged. Sam hovered at the bedside, holding a glass of water and helpfully advising his brother to take deep breaths. Dean groaned.

"Stop acting like I'm giving birth and hand me the damn water. Lady? You sure you haven't just poisoned me? 'Cos, _Jeeze_, that stuff's _gross_!"

Supportively sticking a temperature gauge in Dean's ear, the Maiden smiled.

"I might have."

The gauge pinged, reading it she gave a satisfied nod.

"How about you try moving? If you can't, then I guess I picked up the wrong potion."

She and Sam stepped back whilst Dean, muttering about the Maiden's bedside manner, carefully began to flex and bend his limbs, uncertain what to expect. He grinned broadly.

"Hey! Look at that! I got moving parts again!"

Sam looked on, amazed and delighted.

"Do you think y can you stand?"

Dean duly obliged, wavering only slightly at a brief rush of dizziness caused by being upright for the first time in a while, and he waved Sam away as his brother stepped forward in concern.

"S'ok. I got this."

The Maiden gave a satisfied nod.

"Good. Seems like they must have given me the right potion then after all!"

-o-

Sam was immediately curious.

"They?"

"Santa's little helpers."

Dean, who had begun walking around the room blithely unaware of his open backed attire, froze and turned to face the Maiden.

"_Kidding_! It was a couple of male fairies."

"Oh, yeah. 'Cos that sounds _sooo_ much more believable!"

"Um...Just out of curiosity. You're not by any chance feeling a slight draft anywhere are you, Hunter?"

"_Sonova_... Sam, where's my damn clothes?"

-o-

Back in her role as Senior Ward Manager, the Maiden stood watching whilst Dean's Doctor observed his patient walking, turning, sitting and standing. The Doctor held his hands up, arms not quite fully outstretched in front of him and both palms facing Dean.

"That's very good Mr Osborne. Now, I'd like you to place your palms against mine and try to push my hands back away from you. Push as hard as you can."

Dean looked at the Doctor doubtfully.

"Are you sure?"

The Doctor smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, don't worry. Now, go ahea ... ! ... _d!_"

Shocked, the Doctor looked up at Dean from where now he sat, on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Right then, erm. I possibly should've added _slowly_!"

Dean was mortified, but the Senior Manager chuckled.

"I'd say our patient appears to have recovered his strength Stephen. Don't you think?"

The Doctor grinned.

I wish I could claim that I wasn't quite ready for you to push, but neither of you would fall for it. Would you?"

Relaxing with the banter, Dean smiled.

"Hey! I'll _happily_ pretend to believe you, if it'll help get me out of here?"

The Doctor nodded his recognition of Dean's sentiment..

"Alright. Here's the deal. Hang around until I get your scan results back. Assuming everything's looking ok, I'll officially discharge you. Agreed?"

Dean's smile widened.

"Agreed."

"Good. That settled then ... The results should be back in seven to ten days."

Dean's jaw dropped and he suddenly became incoherent.

"But...You...I thought...The way you said...You...There's..."

"_Gotcha_!"

-o-

Sam smiled when he saw the Senior Manager and the Doctor emerge from Dean's room laughing. It looked like the news was good, so he was caught off guard when Dean immediately glared at him as he was about to enter the room. Sam paused in the doorway.

"You ok?"

Dean swiftly lightened up.

"Sorry. Thought it was Doctor _Hilarious_ coming back. That man's nearly evil enough to warrant hunting."

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to where the Doctor was now standing at the nurse's station, phone in hand and, to Sam's eyes, looking thoroughly normal.

"Did I miss something?"

"Yeah...Me, running for the exit. Let's find out what time our Fairy Friend finishes and then get out of here. I want to take a look around where I ran across old Pukey. _And_ I want a real coffee.

"You realise we can't use the Fed ID's if we go back to where I found you?"

"Hey, I'm a victim! I got rights, or something. Just tryin' to help out, maybe I'll remember something else for Detective Rocha. Introduce myself to the parents, see how they're doin', offer some moral support, you know?"

-o-

The Senior Manager spotted them before they saw her and, followed by openly envious stares from the younger nurses, she walked over to them.

"Decided not to wait for the scan results then?"

Dean gave a shrug of indifference.

"We both know everything's going to be clear. Sam and me have got work to do. One thing I'm curious about though, and I tried asking earlier, you know, right before you poisoned me. How come your friends don't just bring the _parcel_ and give it to you? Especially if they don't want the _mailmen_ involved?"

The Senior Manger lowered her voice, amusement shimmering in her eyes.

"The two sets of friends don't see eye to eye. They don't agree on much at all in fact. And one set's refusing to travel at all. So, it needs a courier service."

One eyebrow arched, Sam looked between the pair and shook his head despairingly. Taking a step away from them, he raised his voice enough to ensure the watching nurses heard him.

"Dean, just ask her to meet you. Don't be so shy! I'll wait down in reception. Find out what time she finishes and be sure to get her number. It's about time you started dating again!"

Sam turned away, a satisfied smirk on his lips, and walked off the ward without waiting for a response. Out of earshot, he chuckled to himself. It would probably hurt later, but he'd enjoyed that.

-o-

Dean strode out of the lift and headed for his brother. Sam straightened himself up from the wall he had been slouched against and grinned. Coming to a halt in front of his younger brother, Dean prodded him firmly in the sternum with one finger.

"Not funny! I owe you."

Sam's grin grew wider.

"It was a little bit funny. Well, _I_ thought it was funny, and I bet the Maiden's reputation just flew up a few notches with her staff."

Dean's expression said _are you kidding me_?

"_Obviously_ it did bro'. They think she's got a date with _me_. Come on. I want to make sure my baby's ok. Kate's coming round to the motel later once she gets off duty."

"Kate now, is it?"

Dean glared at the perma grin on Sam's face.

"It's her name is all. Wipe that stupid laugh off your face, or should I do it for you? Jerk!"

Dean stormed off ahead leaving Sam trailing in his wake, still grinning happily. Sam recalled how not many hours ago he was seriously wondering whether he would ever see Dean walk again. As far as he was concerned, his brother could storm, stomp, strop, hop, skip or even moonwalk. Sam didn't care, he felt good, Dean was good, it was _all_ good. Only thing they had to concentrate on now was reuniting a baby with his parents, and things would move from good to perfect.

**-o-o-o-  
**Due to some content in later chapters,  
have had to change the rating to "T"  
Chick xx


	9. Chapter 9

**C9**

-o-o-o-

Dean's irritation lifted as soon as he sat behind the wheel of the Impala. He couldn't begin to imagine what the effect on him would be, or how it would feel if ever something happened which resulted in him never being able to drive again. To Dean, driving was as much a part of him as breathing. If he couldn't drive, he wondered whether he would want to carry on doing the other either? Sam folded himself into the passenger seat, glancing at the dopey smile on his older brother's face.

"You _have _to know how weird this thing is with you and the car, don't you?"

Dean ignored Sam, speaking instead to the Impala.

"He'll get it one day baby, once he meets a car of his own."

"I've _had _cars of my own Dean."

"Yeah, but they were just flings, non of them were the real thing. You've haven't met _the one_ yet Sammy"

"Weird _and_ creepy."

-o-

Access to both roads adjoined by the cut through where Dean had run foul of the Pooka was closed off to anyone who wasn't resident on either street and both the local police and the press formed a heavy presence. Dean parked as near as he could. Getting out of the car, he paused and visually scanned the area.

"It's incredible how different places look when you see them in daylight. Come on, let's see if either of the Detectives are around."

Dean strolled up to the tape barrier and, as he was so used to doing, he had lifted the tape and ducked underneath before Sam could stop him. A young rookie immediately jogged over to Dean.

"Sir? Sir! I'm sorry, but you have to get back behind the tape._ Behind_ the tape sir."

Dean backed off, holding both hands in the air as if in surrender.

"Oops, sorry Officer. My bad. My name's Dean Osborne and I was ju...!"

At the mention of his name. Dean suddenly found himself surrounded by eager, shoving, pushing press and reporters, all poking their mikes and cameras in his face, trying to be the one who got closest to him. They were all talking excitedly into the microphones attached to their head sets, all pretty much talking on a theme.

"The hero of the day, Dean Osborne, has just arrived. I'm going to see if he'll speak to us. Mr Osborne? Over here! Look this way Mr Osborne..._Dean. _ We've been told that you saw the kidnapper as he was running away, clasping little Daniel, and that you tried to intervene. Can you tell us what information you were able to give the police, Dean? What did you see? Can you give us a description? We heard you were injured. How badly were you hurt? Did the suspect speak to you? What did you have for supper that evening. Who's your favourite designer?"

Dean glanced around, desperately seeking Sam. One section of the people huddled around Dean parted as his giant of a brother pushed his way through them, coming to a standstill at Dean's side. Looking around at the media scrum, Sam raised one hand, bringing the questions to a halt.

"Ladies and gentlemen. My brother won't be answering any questions so you might as well all back off. Do I make myself clear?"

The rookie officer finally managed to break through and give Sam some back up, attempting to physically move the media crowd away from Dean. Looking back over his shoulder at the brothers, he twitched his head towards the police tape.

"Both of you, go on through. Anyone tries to stop you, tell them Officer Woodcliffe let you through and they're to take you to Detective Phillips."

-o-

Dean had already spotted Phillips before he and Sam were intercepted by a female uniformed officer. She called across to the detective.

"Detective Phillips?...These two men say you know them?"

Seeing Sam and Dean, Phillips excused himself from the guy he was talking to and strolled over to the brothers. His surprise at seeing the shorter of the two _Dean_ up and out of the hospital showed clearly but briefly in his expression, then it was gone, replaced by a narrow smile of greeting and he held his hand out to shake theirs.

"Hello gentlemen. I certainly didn't expect to see you here; _especially_ not you Dean. It looks like there's been some sort of miracle, or magic, performed! I assume you're out with the permission of your Doctor?"

Dean gave Phillips an easy smile.

"Thrown out on my ear. Discharged owing to having been deemed totally fit and healthy. Thought I should come back here and have a look around, it might jog something. Something that could be useful to you guys, you know?"

Sam noticed that Phillips seemed to relax a little at Dean's words.

"Good idea. Come on, you can explain to me the route you took before you reached the path where you met our suspect."

-o-

Looking around, there were no signs at all along the narrow pathway of anything untoward having happened there. Phillips watched Dean carefully as he paused in one particular area for a longer period.

"That's where you were when your brother found you?"

Dean nodded, remembering how helpless he had felt.

"So, a couple of streets away you heard glass break, then a baby cry and you followed the sound, spotted this passage and saw a figure holding a baby coming the opposite way, yes?"

"That's about the sum of it. I yelled at the guy to stop, he didn't, so I went to tackle him to the ground. That's when I slipped. I twisted to try grabbing the guy as I fell, and suddenly I couldn't move."

"Right. I see. And this guy? He jumps clean over you and just disappears?"

"Yup. Turned the corner and was gone. Obviously I couldn't go after him."

"Obviously not. Um, any idea what you might have slipped on?"

Dean stopped scanning the floor and looked up at Phillips.

"Detective, it was cold, there was frost. Maybe an icy patch?"

"Ah, of course. You're right, it _was_ cold...You said the guy was wearing some kind of Ghandi type loin cloth? Nothing else?"

"Not that I noticed. Unfortunately by then I'd let myself get distracted by pain. Sorry. As to the loincloth, maybe the guy suffers hot flushes? Was running a fever? Had some kind of heating system stuck down the front of his loin cloth? Who knows."

Phillips and Dean were now in stand off positions, and Sam quickly stepped forward, one hand resting lightly on Dean's shoulder, a calming gesture to anyone looking. For Sam it was a precaution, a readiness to swiftly pull Dean away if necessary. He gave the detective an earnest look.

"I'm _so_ sorry Detective Phillips."

Making full eye contact with his brother, the message in Sam's eyes very much read _What the frigg are you tryin' to do? Stop winding him up! Play nice! He could be up to something._

"Dean! There was no need for that tone. The detective was only trying to help jog your memory. Weren't you? I know you've been through a lot today, but I'm sure Detective Phillips has too."

Dean glared at Sam. Then rolled his eyes and turned to Phillips again, an apologetic smile pasted on his face.

"My brother's right. That was way outta line. I'm really sorry. Like he said, it's been quite a day ... Go ahead Detective. Ask me anything."

Phillips relaxed his stance a fraction.

"No need to apologise. You're brother's right. You've been through a lot and I should have remembered that. Do you feel up to going through the description of the suspect that you gave us? Just to ensure you're happy that I got it down properly?"

Dean gave a beautiful _I'm tired but I want to help_ sigh.

"Sure. No problem at all detective."

-o-

Dean scanned through the small, neat handwriting covering the page in Phillips' notebook which the detective had passed to him.

"Ok, let's see. Pale greyish coloured eyes. Long slender limbs. Striped loincloth. Approximately five six to five ten. Either close cropped hair or possibly bald...Actually, I would go with close cropped now I think about it. Clean shaven, yes ... Well, this seems just fine, I really can't think of anything else to add to it."

Taking his notebook back, Phillips flicked over the entry himself, before closing the book and popping it back into the inside pocket of his jacket. He gave Dean a tight smile.

"You've been a big help Mr Osborne. Really. You'll probably be recommended for an award in recognition of your attempt to stop the kidnap of the child without any hesitation or any consideration for your own safety."

Dean looked appalled.

"_Crap _no. No way. Listen, take my advice, forget it. Save yourself the paperwork. I won't be collecting any award."

"Oh. I see. Well. If you're certain?"

"I am."

Sam butted in again.

"If you _really_ want to reward Dean, how about taking us to Daniel's parents. We'd both like to introduce ourselves to them and ask if there's anything we can do to help.

Phillips frowned.

"I see. Well, I'd have to talk to them first, see what they think. Ok?"

**-o-o-o-**


	10. Chapter 10

**C10**

-o-o-o-

Oblivious to the presence of the two Hunters, the baby's mother sat on a sofa opposite and facing another sofa which was currently occupied by Sam and Dean. She was humming quietly, a gentle smile on her face as she rocked to and fro, her eyes never leaving the log that she cradled safely in her arms. As her husband entered the lounge, Dean saw the man's eyes flick briefly towards his wife, then quickly divert away from her again, as though it caused the man far too much pain to look at her for long. In his hand he held a 6x4 photograph which he offered to Dean before sitting himself down in an armchair positioned at the head of the sofas. Accepting it, Dean found himself looking at an everyday family image. Mum with a baby seated on her lap, resting safely against his mother's supporting arm whilst she laughed down at her son. Dad was at his wife's side, the photo showing him in profile, leaning down, putting himself on eye level with his son and smiling as he pulled a dumb face for the child. Baby Daniel himself was watching his dad with his eyes wide as if in amazement, and the beginnings of a delighted smile lighting up his face.

"That's the most recent one we have of Daniel. It's my wife's favourite because he's smiling at us. I've always teased her that he was just burping."

"No he wasn't...He was giving mommy and daddy a _big_, beautiful smile. Weren't you my sweet little Danny Boy? Yes! That's right! You were! Don't you listen to your naughty daddy now."

-o-

Sam turned away awkwardly as the father lowered his head, covering his face with his hands, trying to cover his distress at his wife speaking to the log in her arms as though it were their missing baby son. Dean quietly and slowly moved off the sofa he shared with his brother, and instead he sat himself down carefully at the side of the mother, ensuring that he didn't scare her by sitting too close. His focus was entirely on the woman, his voice so soft that Sam and the father could only just hear him, and his words were evenly paced, calm, gentle, reassuring.

"This is a wonderful picture. Little Danny's a beautiful baby. I can see from this photograph that he's got your eyes."

Both Sam and the father watched in silence as the mother lifted her head and gazed at Dean. When she spoke, her own voice mimicked Dean's in that it was little more than a whisper, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"He's got his daddy's chin."

Dean smiled at her. Sam noticed that Dean maintained his attention on the woman, and never once looked at the log, refusing to reinforce the woman's belief that she was nursing her baby son.

"And who's nose do you think little Danny has got?"

Still cradling the log, the mother smiled down at it.

"His daddy has a fine nose; doesn't he my baby boy? We wouldn't mind if your little button nose grows to be like daddy's, isn't that right?"

"I bet your son is a very good baby. I bet he already sleeps very well."

Still looking down at the inanimate lump of wood, the mother nodded.

"Yes, he does. And when he's awake, he's nearly always smiling. He doesn't...He doesn't cry much at all. When ... When he _does_ cry, it breaks my heart. He cried in the night...Last night...He...He cried for me. My baby boy...He ... Danny."

Like a flower closing it's petals for the night, the mother withdrew back into herself and, very soon after, she returned to humming the tune to _You are my sunshine_, whilst smiling and contentedly rocking the log in her arms.

-o-

The father made a noise that sounded like a combination of a cough and a sob.

"_I'm sorry_."

Standing quickly, he headed to the kitchen. The brother's glanced at each other, then both followed after the devastated man. One of the kitchen windows was blocked over with hardboard. Standing at the sink, the heels of both hands resting on the sink edge, the man stared at the boarding.

"They're um...Coming to fix that tomorrow ... Do you think. Do you think I'll ever get them back? ... Only, I've lost _both_ of them you see..."

Seeing how clearly fragile the baby's father was, Sam silently moved to stand at the man's side.

"Your wife, she's in shock, traumatised. I'm _sure_ she'll recover, she just needs time. And I know the police are doing their best for you both. They won't give up, they'll do all they can. They will. But..."

The father's red rimmed eyes looked up at Sam questioningly.

"But?"

Sam took a deep breath.

"My brother, Dean, and I...Well...This kind of thing? It's sorta what we do. It's kinda our job, it's what we do best, and we both think there's a chance we might have more luck than the police. So...

"What? What do you mean? Who are you? How can this be your job? I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Sam's answer fell smoothly from his lips.

"We're both private investigators and we have a lot of experience. Especially in this type of situation. I promise you, if there is the _slightest_ possibility, we _will_ find your son, and we _will_ bring him back home to you."

There was the momentary light of hope in the man's eyes, then just as suddenly, it was gone again and he shook his head.

"I don't...The cost...I could..."

Dean moved up into the man's line of sight.

"We're not doing this for money Sir. We don't want anything from you. We doing this type of thing because we both want to. And I _swear_, we'll do whatever it takes. All we _do_ ask in return, is that you don't tell the police. We can do things, go places, speak to people that the police can't; It would make it easier for us to do our job if they don't know that we're looking for your son as well."

The small spark of hope flared again as the man looked at each of the brothers in turn.

"You'd do that for my wife and I? Really?"

Dean smiled slightly.

"Yes, and for little Daniel."

The man appeared to be slightly overwhelmed.

"I...I don't know what to say!"

Sam shook his head.

"No need to say anything. We'll be in touch with you once we have something concrete, and I'll give you a contact number for us. Ring us anytime. I mean it."

-o-

The smile left Dean's face as he and Sam walked out of the house.

"When I get my hands on him? That Pukey's gonna _waste_ his three wishes wishing he'd never been born!"

-o-

Seemingly out of nowhere, Phillips appeared at the side of the Hunters.

"Everything go alright?"

Sam shrugged.

"Well, it wasn't the most cheerful of conversations as you might expect, but yeah. It went alright, thank you."

"That's great! Now gentlemen, if you'll follow me? I've got a surprise lined up for you both."

Despite Dean's insistence that he didn't like surprises, Phillips began to lead the brothers back to the taped cordon. Sam could see that the crowd of reporters and photographers still hovering around had grown in number, and to his shock, Phillips waved over to them, raising his voice as he and the brothers got closer.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press...Could I have your attention please?"

Sam heard a quiet _Uh oh_ from his brother.

"Here he is people, Dean Osborne and his brother Sam. Both fresh from a visit with little Daniel's parents!"

Taking Phillips' words as consent, the media crowd surged forward, immediately surrounding Sam and Dean, all eagerly shouting out their questions again.

Trapped by the clammering hoard, and desperately trying to avoid their picture being taken, Dean scanned the external edges of the pushing and shoving milieu, finally spotting Phillips. Dean's lips curled into a snarl as Phillips smirked and raised one hand, giving Dean a slow wave before turning and sauntering away.

**-o-o-o-**


	11. Chapter 11

**C11**

-o-o-o-

Throwing himself down into the Impala's driver's seat, Dean immediately thumped the dashboard.

"That low life, scum sucking, vomit drinking, maggot eating, _asshat_!"

Sam collapsed into the passenger seat.

"I've got another name for him."

"Fine. Go for it Sammy. Don't hold back on my account."

"Ok...How about this?...Betrayer?"

-o-

Dean's head turned quickly and he stared at his brother, eyes wide.

"Sam? Seriously? You really think he could be? I mean, I agree he's _definitely _sly, greasy and underhand enough. Probably ideal qualities to become a member of the Brethren of Betrayers!"

"I think we at least have to consider the possibility. I mean, we've got an area where the are Fey active and have pulled a high risk stunt in stealing a human baby, we've got a Maiden of the Sidhe Fey in this same area, so I'd say it would be only logical for us to conclude there's a Betrayer skulking around as well. I vote we put Phillips on the prime suspect shortlist."

"Sammy? A few seconds ago, were you channelling Sherlock Holmes intentionally?"

"Huh?"

"Forget it logic boy. Remind me though, how many candidates are on our prime suspects list so far?"

Sam was beginning to feel like he was attempting to swim up a waterfall.

"Um, just Phillips?"

"Well, in that case, I think our list's long enough already. On a more serious note, if you're right about Phillips, then that's gonna be a game changer."

"I'm listening."

"Think about it...If he's a Betrayer, chances are that he knows _we're _Hunters, just like Kate somehow did! No _way_ he's gonna keep _that _tasty titbit away from his Un-Sidhe chums."

"_Crap_!"

"Yup. You said it brother. Good to know we're on the same page. What d'ya say to Motel, coffee, pockets full of defensive bread? Sound an ok plan for now?"

"Sounds fine, maybe catch up on some sleep before Kate arrives."

Dean gave Sam a wink.

Bet you're glad I can use my loaf? _Ha_! Geddit?...Loaf?"

"Shuddup and drive."

-o-

Sam rubbed at his eyes, trying to relieve the sore, gritty feel of them and once again stared at the screen of his laptop. The first page of the notepad positioned to one side of the laptop was covered with snippets of his easy handwriting. Odd words had been circled and an arrow drawn linking them to another parcel of information he had found elsewhere. Other words and phrases were starred, identifying them as likely to be important, a few words or paragraphs were crossed out, tossed aside, to be ignored. Yawning, he looked at his watch. Five minutes more and it would be time to wake Dean up so that he could take over the research and referencing, whilst Sam grabbed the chance of a welcome nap before the Maiden was due to arrive. Sam stood up from the small table he had been working at and reached up to the ceiling with his hands and arms, luxuriating in stretching and loosening the muscles in his back. He headed across to the coffee maker and set about cleaning it out, intending to prepare a fresh lot for when Dean got up. Turning off the tap, Sam became aware of a scratching sound coming from low down on the external side of the door to their room.

-o-

Sam held his breath as the sound stopped and he began a slow count in his head. At five, the scratching noise began again. Not moving from where he stood, Sam glanced back at his brother's bed. Dean was little more than a variety of lumps and bumps snuggled under the bedclothes. Sam considered waking his brother, but didn't dare risk any of the usual Dean sounds which often accompanied his brother's waking up. Instead, Sam moved soundlessly across to the motel room door. The scratching had stopped again, and so Sam waited, one hand poised ready to make a swift grab at the door handle and quickly yank it open. As soon as the scratching noise came again, Sam moved.

-o-

Smiling whilst dreaming of tearing around a formula one track driving the Impala, and very much looking like he was going to beat all comers to the chequered flag, Dean didn't much appreciate being dragged out from his sleep and from under the bedclothes by the startling sound of his brother suddenly cursing loudly and at length. Dean's feet were on the floor before his head had fully left his pillow. Standing up, knife in hand, his brain digested the fact that the door to the room was open and Dean's body began moving in that direction almost before Dean had chance to fully process the information.

-o-

Sam was just outside their room and still cursing. He was holding onto the door frame with one hand in order to balance himself, and gripping his own right ankle with the other hand as he stared underneath his right boot, his nose crinkled in disgust. Seeing his brother was upright and talking, Dean relaxed.

"Enjoying a dog poop moment?"

"More of a message moment really."

"Come again?"

Yanking off the offending boot, Sam hobbled back into the room. Pulling a rumpled piece of parchment out of his shirt pocket he handed it to Dean and hobbled off towards the bathroom, holding his boot as far away from his body as he could.

-o-

Dean heard the sound of a bath tap being turned virtually on to full as he straightened out the parchment and gazed at the message which was elegantly hand written in a medieval style font.

* * *

_Hunters._  
_The Beautiful boy child is ours._  
_Do not follow after him,_  
_lest your own deaths should follow after you._

_Master of the Un -Sidhe_

* * *

Dean strode across to the bathroom. Opening the door, he walked straight in, just as Sam had turned the tap off and begun shaking the excess water off his now thoroughly soaking wet boot.

"What happened Sam?"

"Beer, while I put this to dry in front of the heater."

-o-

Dean handed his brother an opened bottle of beer and sat opposite Sam at the kitchen table.

"So? How come your boot suddenly needed a bath?

"I heard scratching noises, opened the door and the parchment was laid on the floor with the blank side up, so, I bent down to pick it up. Dean, there was the biggest damn spider I've _ever_ seen sitting under the damn parchment. It did the whole discovery channel thing, you know? It reared up at me, then half squatted down. I swear it glared at me and I just knew it was gonna launch itself straight at me. I'm afraid I went on autopilot and didn't even realise what I was doing...Until the thing went _squelch_. I'm _really_ sorry."

Dean looked at his brother's apologetic face solemnly.

"Squelch?"

Sam gave a mournful nod.

"I guess I ought to mention the large amount of splatter too?"

"Squelch _and_ splatter?"

Sam lowered his head and nodded again, shamefully, his tone one of regret.

"It was big enough to do both."

Dean looked with amused sympathy at the top of his brother's head.

"That _is_ pretty big Sammy."

Sam sniffled.

"Yeah...Was...Made an 'orrible big mess under my boot too."

Sam raised his head a fraction, glancing at his brother from under his fringe, watching as Dean raised his beer bottle to his lips.

"Dean?"

"Uh huh?"

Sam's timing came with the practiced ease of his years spent as the younger brother to a prankster.

"I got all sticky."

_PHSHHEEEEEWWW!_

Laughing triumphantly, Sam quickly headed for his bed, leaving Dean using the bottom of his tee to wipe at the beer which now dripped off his chin and down his nose.

"Trés mature Sam, trés mature!"

-o-

Dean looked again at the message in his hand. He and Sam were no strangers to threats in a variety of forms instructing them to back off. Despite how flowery both the writing and the language was, this one wasn't about to be successful in it's intent _either_.

**-o-o-o-**


	12. Chapter 12

_Wrote this chapter last weekend, honest, so any similarity between the last l__ine  
__of this chapter and a line near the end of S9 Ep20 is _totally _coincidental!: (_

**C12**

-o-o-o-

Picking up the notepad his brother had been using to record his randomly scattered finding on, Dean stared at the chaotic bits and pieces of writing, sometimes a full sentence, sometimes just random seeming words were scrawled wherever there was a gap on the page. Dean turned the notebook up-side-down and sideways testing whether it would help to create some cohesion out of the cyclone, hoping the swirling words might start to form an orderly queue, they didn't. He glanced at his bottle of beer and sighed. It really wasn't what he needed right now; this was a job for Malicious Mule Coffee. Sam had got as far as to put water into the machine. Dean peered hopefully into the filter paper, and grimaced. He wasn't going to get away with simply spooning yet more ground coffee on top of the old stuff, the filter paper was full already. Carefully lifting out the bulgingly and coldly soggy filter paper, he dropped it into the trash can then popped a fresh filter into the holder, before reaching up and opening one of the kitchen's wall mounted cupboards. Something besides coffee instantly caught his eye, bringing on a sudden flash of memory that caused Dean to pause, and smile to himself. As well as grabbing an unopened bag of ground coffee, Dean also lifted down the large glass storage jar that had been the originator of his wicked smile. Dean got to work.

-o-

The sensation of the mattress dipping at one side causing him to roll down the newly acquired slope, woke Sam. He opened his eyes to find he had a close up view of a denim clad thigh. Shifting his head away and turning onto his back, Sam blinked up at his smiling big brother who sat on the edge of the bed holding a mug of coffee at the ready.

"Time to rise and shine Spiderman. I brought you coffee. Kate's due in roughly 45 minutes, thought you might want to come round before she arrives?"

Sam nodded, yawning and, at the same time, lazily addressing an itchy area of shoulder.

"Oh boy. The great yawning chasm of Sam, what a tourist attraction! Are you gonna sit up and get this coffee any time soon, or should I just leave you to find new bits of yourself to scratch?"

"M'gettin' up. Just need a mo'. Go way."

"Fine. I'll leave your coffee here, on the bedside cabinet, alright?"

Sam combined nodding with a further gaping yawn, enjoying the rare luxury of coming around slowly.

"K...A'right."

"You sure you're not just waiting for me to turn my back so's you can fall back to sleep, are you? 'Cos I need to warn you, I can do a mean line in jug of cold water if you need me to? Just say the word."

"Nooo. Tol' you, m'awake."

"Right, looks like it."

Dean put the mug of coffee down and stood up.

"I'm giving you till three to sit up, or I pull the bed clothes back."

Sam's eyes opened wide and he made a grab for his sheet and blankets, moving a fraction too slowly. Bedclothes gripped in one hand, Dean raised a finger on his other hand and began the count.

"One..."

Looking panicked, Sam began to shuffle himself up the bed.

"Two..."

"Dean! Don't? _Pleeease.._"

The light of understanding instantly shone in his older brother's eyes and he hiked one eyebrow, grinning as Sam managed to get sat up in the bed with his back resting against the headboard, and glaring daggers in Dean's direction..

"Happy now?"

Dean gave a short laugh and winked at Sam.

"Maybe not as happy as it seems _you_ were! Having some real good dreamtime were you, little brother?"

Sam felt the heat spread across his cheeks.

"Get lost! I'm going to grab a quick shower, that alright with you?"

Dean backed away from the bed, hands held up at either side of his head in a time honoured gesture of surrender.

"Sure,. Just make sure it's a cold one eh?"

"Screw you!"

Sam reached for his coffee and lifted the mug to his lips.

"You know that's never gonna happen, right?"

The younger Hunter successfully avoided choking and spluttering his sip at the hot liquid and he grinned triumphantly at Dean.

"Didn't get me!"

Dean gave Sam a slow wink.

"No, I didn't..._This_ time."

-o-

Emerging from the joy of a hot shower, Sam strolled across to where Dean was again sat at the kitchen table with the laptop open. Glancing at his notepad, Sam stared in surprised when he saw that his random jottings had been converted into a semblance of order in his brother's small, neat writing. Sam couldn't help but be impressed.

"How the Hell did you manage to unscramble all my rough notes?"

"Time. And a _huge_ dollop of patience."

-o-

Sam went to answer the tentative knock at the door. Peering through the spy hole first, he was smiling when he opened the door to Kate.

"Hi. Come on in. Have you eaten yet?"

Kate returned his smile.

"Depends. What's on offer?"

About to step over the threshold, Kate paused and looked down at her feet.

"Clever."

So used to it being there, Sam hadn't noticed the line of white on the floor just inside the doorway.

"Ah, yeah. That's just...Hang on..._Sugar_?"

Kate was careful not to disturb the sugar line as she stepped over it.

"Well, that would certainly keep them busy enough to stop them coming right in. Your idea, or your brother's?"

"Dean's. We usually do the same thing, but with salt."

"Really? Well, either one will do the job. Whichever it was, they'd still have to stop to count the granules. Now, where's my impatient patient?"

"Beer and food run. He won't be long."

Kate frowned as she threw her jacket over the back of one of a pair of tub chairs.

"You let him go alone?"

-o-

It was Sam's turn to frown.

"Um, yeah. Is that likely to be a problem?"

Kate looked up at Sam with a serious expression.

"Hopefully not, but, Dean is now _twice_ Fey touched. I'm afraid he's gonna be like a wandering beacon of light, just shining on out to them. Can you get hold of him? Warn him to be careful?"

-o-

The tension eased out of Sam's shoulders when Dean answered his phone.

"Sammy? Problem?"

"Just a heads up. Kate's here. She's worried, says you're walking around lit up like a lighthouse. A walking _Come on boys_ to any Fey hanging around out there.

"I am? Ok, understood. I'll be careful. Anyway, I'm only ... **_Shiittt_**!"

-o-

Sam's grip on his phone tightened at the sound of a mind numbing scream and the squeal of the Impala's breaks.

"Dean? _Dean_! Talk to me...Are you ok? What just happened?..._Dean_?"

-o-

"S'ok, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a near miss is all. Did you hear that freaky flesh creeping noise? _That _came out of a bloody big horse! It appeared from who knows where, and just set off to charge across the road in front of me. Must've got out of a field somewhere hereabouts."

Sam felt himself grow cold.

"A _horse_ Dean?"

Kate was now standing in front of Sam listening closely, he could almost feel the worry emanating from her.

"S'right. _Huge_ black thing, like really...Huge and... Um...Sammy? That huge horse? It's kinda back and...Erm...How fast can horses run? Only _this_ one's sorta running alongside the Impala. It's _him_, isn't it? Our pal Pukey McPukey?"

"Dean? Put your foot down. Get away from it!"

"Stop readin' my thoughts dude! Putting you onto speaker, kinda needin' both hands now."

-o-

His legs suddenly feeling somewhat shaky, Sam moved to the kitchen table with Kate in tow. Sitting down, he switched his own phone over to speaker and set it down on the table so Kate could listen in too. Dean's voice could be heard talking to the Impala.

"Right Baby. Looks like we got ourselves a race. We both know you can _easy_ outstrip this douche old girl. Remember, he's only operating under one horse power..."

Sam heard the familiar sound of the Impala's engine responding to her driver as Dean pushed the speed up. Kate mouthed _Where abouts is he?_

"Dean? How far from us are you?"

"Not sure, couple or four miles? _Good girl_, blow stones in that fugly's ugly face...Uh oh!...Fine! That's how you want it little donkey?_ You goddit_...Here we go baby!"

The sound of the car's engine increased again as Dean continued his desperate race to stay ahead of the Pooka. At the motel, Kate hurried to retrieve her jacket and quickly put it on.

"Tell him to stay just ahead. Tell him we'll be at the motel car park entrance and to drive straight on in. We'll be standing by the entrance. He should ignore us, he has to get into the car park ahead of that thing."

"Dean? Did you catch that?"

"_Sonovabitch!_ Yeah. Car park. Ignore. Stay ahead. Got it. _Shit_! Seriously? Ok my darlin', Don't let me down, I _know_ you've got more hidden away. Time to _really_ show My Pet Pony what we can do!...Hey! Kate? Hope you like pizza? Should still be hot when I get there.

Kate leaned closer to the phone.

"What should still be hot? The pizza? Or you?"

The sound of Dean's laughter came over the speaker and Sam shook his head in disbelief. His brother sounded too much like he was enjoying himself!

**-o-o-o-**


	13. Chapter 13

**C13**

-o-o-o-

Sam and Kate didn't have to wait long before they both heard the sound of the Impala's engine in the distance as the car began to close in on their position. Kate stood herself at one side of the walled car park's single entry and exit point, one hand shoved inside her jacket pocket, her head turned to look back over her own shoulder at the stretch of tree lined road that was visible to her.

"What do you want me to do?"

She glanced at Sam and could clearly see his barely contained anxiety for his brother's safety. She kept her tone light, as if this kind of situation was no big deal to her, the kind of thing she_ expected_ to be doing at night after a long shift at the hospital.

"Once Dean's parked up, go check he's ok, and then go get my pizza in the oven to re-heat?"

-o-

Back down as far as Kate could see of the two lane road, the Impala suddenly came into view as it screeched it's way around a sharp turn and continued at breakneck speed, on towards his brother and the Maiden. Roughly a couple of yards behind the car, the Pooka in it's horse guise made a push to close the short gap between itself and Dean's car ready to try overtaking, as though it knew it was running out of the time it needed to force the car to a standstill and capture the Fey-touched Hunter.

-o-

An eighteen wheeler coming in the opposite direction blasted it's horn frantically when the driver suddenly saw that he was on a direct collision course with an impossibly fast galloping horse. The Pooka had no option but to slow a fraction and drop back slightly. With supernatural agility, it switched lanes in the last second before it and the wagon collided, finding itself now lagging behind Dean in the Impala by a few yards. The driver of the wagon had already gripped the wheel tightly and screwed his eyes closed in anticipation of the inevitable, explosive, crash. Feeling nothing, his eyes shot open again to see only a stretch of empty road ahead and he let out the breath that he hadn't known he was holding. Next chance he got, he decided that he was pulling in and taking a long break to try and stop the trembling he now felt in both his hands. In the not too distant future, when he would at last pulled in at a roadside cafe, it would be to find that both his hands had an iron death grip on the steering wheel and were refusing to let go. He would have to engage in a determined battle with his own fingers in order to force them to release their purchase before he could go order a strong black coffee.

-o-

As he came to the car park entrance, Dean threw the Impala into a 90 degree turn with a nauseating sound that was a combination of tortured, screaming breaks and squealing, screeching metal. Shooting into the car park past Kate and Sam, he pulled another 180 drift before coming to a halt. The instant the Impala passed her, Kate withdrew her hand from her pocket and threw something onto the ground across the entryway, then swiftly stepped back, ensuring that she too was on the inside of the car park as the Pooka galloped up to the entrance. At the last second, the horse slew to a full stop and reared up onto it's hind legs, filling the night air with an unnatural howl that became a furious, hate filled scream when it realised it wasn't able to enter the motel car park. From behind the boundary wall, Kate watched as the beast angrily paced for a period, back and forth, tossing it's gleaming blue black mane, patrolling just beyond the invisible barrier that was keeping it from it's prize. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the open and determinedly walked towards the barrier she had created. Seeing her, the Pooka stilled, silently watching as Kate approached.

-o-

The Impala had ground to a halt, it's engine still running, a visible heat haze drifted up from the bonnet. There was no sign of movement at all that Sam could see whilst he raced towards the car. Yanking the driver's side door open, he bent down to look inside. Dean was sat ramrod straight, both hands still on the wheel, his eyes staring straight ahead out of the windscreen. Sam could see the fast rise and fall of Dean's chest, hear the soft, rapid panting of his brother's breathing. Sam made sure that he kept his voice soft, not wanting to startle Dean.

"Dean?...You ok man?"

Dean slowly turned to acknowledge his younger brother. Sam was surprised to see his brother's eyes were shining, his pupils blown wide, and Dean's lips instantly parted into a wide, cheesy, smile as he stared at Sam.

"Did you see her Sammy? Did you see how my baby can _fly_? Man! That...Was...Freakin'...**_Awesome_**!"

Sam felt his legs give way and he suddenly found himself sat on the ground at the side of the car, with his brother looking down at him from the driver's seat, brows furrowed in concern.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

Sam stared back up at Dean and slowly shook his head.

"_Un_believable!"

-o-

Taking hold of the hand offered to him, Sam allowed Dean to help him back up onto his feet. Sam still wore a look of dazed disbelief on his face at how much fun Dean appeared to have had whilst Sam himself, along with Kate, had been worried half out of his mind about his older brother. As if reading his thoughts, Dean glanced around.

"Where's Kate?"

Suddenly back on full alert, Sam spun around and looked over at the car park entrance.

"Oh, _crap_!"

Dean followed his brother's line of sight, and his heart felt like it had jumped into his throat when he saw the woman walk up and stand directly in front of the Pooka. He and Sam set off running at the same time as one another. They both saw Kate wave her arms in front of the creature and, absurdly, the Pooka take a couple of steps away from the woman, pulling it's head back and tossing it's mane as it moved. Sam grabbed hold of Dean's arm tightly, forcing his brother to slow down alongside him.

"Wha...?"

"Shhh. Quiet."

Dean noticed an amused smirk appear on his brother's face. He turned his attention back onto Kate, in time to see her again wave her arms at the Pooka and, this time, he tuned into what she was saying to the creature.

"I said _Shoo_! Go on. Away with you! _Shoo_! Trot off and don't come back. I mean right _now_! Go, scat, skidaddle, scoot, **_Leave!_**"

The horse lowered it's head and snorted. Seemingly unphased, Kate placed both hands on her hips and began tapping the toe of one shoe on the floor in annoyance. With another shake of it's mane, the Pooka at last turned and began trotting away, quickly vanishing into thin air. Kate wasn't quite finished however.

"And _stay _away!"

The sound of applause from behind startled her and she quickly turned, a small smile of embarrassment and a full throttle blush making an appearance when she saw the laughter and delight on the faces of the two Hunters.

"Stop it...Both of you."

Two voices answered in unison.

"_Yes ma'am!"_

**-o-o-o-**


	14. Chapter 14

**C14**

-o-o-o-

Still on a high, back inside Dean kept glancing at Kate and erupting into bouts of laughter. Eventually, she put a stop to it.

"Dean, I appreciate how exciting and amusing this evening has been for you, but we're to work on how to find baby Daniel. Will it help you focus if I tell you that my life's _also_ in danger now because of what I did out there?"

Sam wisely concentrated on removing pizza's from the oven and cutting them into slices. Dean's latest fit of laughter abruptly ceased and in less than the blink of an eye, he became deadly serious.

"How so? You got rid of the thing, didn't you?"

Kate sighed, then smiled up at Sam as he brought plates and a tray of pizza slices over to the table.

"Thanks Sam. No Dean, Sadly I didn't get rid of _anything_, not permanently anyway. I only kept it away from you for tonight. And, by doing that, what I've achieved is toreveal to the Pooka that I'm a Maiden, and that I'm trying to help the both of you. Where do you think the Pooka vanished to?"

Dean shrugged, admitting to not knowing. Sam' however, narrowed his eyes and went with the straight forward guess.

"Back to the Un-Sidhe Fey lands?"

Kate nodded.

"Right, for a start. Then it's more than likely he clip clopped straight to the Master to tell him that he saw a Maiden in your company. I mean, if the plan _had_ been to attract attention, then between us all I'd say we've certainly achieved _that_ goal tonight. So anyway, if it's alright with you two? I'll tell you what I can, and I truly hope it's enough to help keep the pair of you safe. I can't stand to think of anything happening to either of you, but, I can't stay around after tonight. It's not that I _want_ to leave this place, but now I'm known to the Un-sidhe, I've got to make arrangements to move on as soon as I possibly can; again. That said, I can't think of anyone I'd rather share my last meal in this town with. I would've said _last beer_ as well, except nobody's offered me one!

-o-

So my friends, one of the first things you need to know is that _you_, Dean, are now wanted as much as the baby was, and _that_ means the Un-Sidhe will be trying to get their grasping hands on you at the same time as the you boys are going after our Pooka pal."

So many questions whirled around inside Sam's head, he almost didn't know where to begin. He settled on the query that caused him the most anxiety.

"Why? Why would they want Dean?"

"First, I've already told you, our Dean here is twice Fey touched. That alone makes you a rarity Dean. And secondly? Have you looked in a mirror lately Dean?"

Dean frowned, he had the distinct feeling that he had missed part of the conversation somewhere along the line.

"What're you talking about?"

"_Surely_ you don't need me to point it out?"

Sam turned to his brother and looked at him, _really _looked at him in a way he hadn't done for a long time. Why would he? Dean's face was as familiar to Sam as his own. When you see something constantly, over time you stop actually looking and just accept it is there. Dean squirmed under the intensity of his brother's gaze.

"Dude! Seriously?"

Sam dropped his stare.

"Sorry. I think what Kate is hinting at is...Well...You're not exactly ugly, are you? At least, that's what you keep telling me."

Aware his cheeks were once again ablaze, Dean pointedly ignored his brother and fixed on Kate instead.

"So you're sayin' that, 'cos I'm not the Elephant Man, I'm a target?"

Kate shrugged.

"Pretty much. Course, if any of the high Un-sidhe catch a look at Sam. Well, what can I say? Buy one get one free?"

"But...That's not fair. It's _him_ thatsquished their pet spider, not me."

Kate instantly rounded on Sam, feeling that she was rapidly getting out of her depth with these two.

"_What_ spider, exactly?"

-o-

Kate looked from brother to brother, stunned.

"Tell me, do you _always_ manage to create this much interest between you? Have neither of you ever heard the words _covert_ or _understated_? Do you _always_ start a case by actively yelling _Hey! You! Is it ok if we hunt you_? Unbelievable! That note boys was an offer. Your one chance to walk away. Instead, Big Foot here _squashes_ one of the Master's personal messengers!"

Sam opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by a glare from Kate that screamed _Mother Tone_.

"Before you try telling me you didn't know it was a messenger from the Un-Sidhe Master...He doesn't actually _care_ whether you knew or not. He's Un-Sidhe Fey. He _only_ cares about the insult you've thrown at him by killing the thing."

Dean attempted to identify a positive out of what seemed to be turning into one giant sized cock up.

"Well. I guess we can stop looking for a way to call the Pooka to us. From what you're saying, I just hang around in the open and he'll come. Right? I figure he'll take me to their leader? So really, that just leaves how to protect ourselves from Fey magic, although I think I've got that covered with the bread thing, how to gank the Pooka and the Master and, finally, how to get the baby back here again."

Kate had her head tilted slightly on one side as she listened to Dean, nodding and smiling at him occasionally until he finished and looked at her expectantly. Kate grabbed another slice of pizza as she stood up from the table.

"Right then. Sounds like you've got it covered, guess I'll go home and start packing. Oh, I _am_ confused about one thing though. I'm not sure why you think feeding Un-sidhe ducks would be useful? I'll save you wasting your time anyway, there _are_ no ducks in the Un-Sidhe Fey lands."

Sam was getting a headache.

"Kate, why're you talking about ducks? Dean never mentioned ducks...Um, did you?"

Dean shook his head, looking baffled. Kate drew her eyebrows together, acting confused for the benefit of the two Hunters.

"Oh. That's _not _what the bread was for? Feeding ducks? 'Cos it's no good for anything else. Ooo! Unless you're planning on having a picnic when you get hauled off into the Un-sidhe lands?"

Worried, Dean wondered if Kate was now having a meltdown?

"It's to protect us from Fey magic. You know, dry bread carried on you?"

"_Please_, tell me, what pile of rubbishy fantasy comics did _that_ crap come from? Seriously? Dry bread? You've a lot to learn boys, so we might as well get started. Take me through your research notes.

-o-

It was the early hours of the following morning, the Maiden and the Hunters were all desperately tired and weary by the time they had sorted, thrown out, and added to the original research notes until Kate was satisfied that the brothers had most of what they needed to complete the task ahead. The strain showed, it was especially bad on Kate as she moved stiffly to retrieve her jacket. Dean took it from her and held it whilst the Maiden slipped her arms into to it.

"What the Hell have you got in here Kate? It weighs a tonne!"

Kate grinned.

"Hold your hands out."

Reaching inside the pockets, Kate began extracting handfuls of various sized rusty iron nails and dropping them into Dean's hands.

"These are what stopped the Pooka from following you into the car park. I threw a load of them on the ground across the car park entrance. They create a barrier impassable by any Fey. Effective, but quick and easy to carry and use. Now, much as I'm going to miss the company of you boys, and I am, it's time I was gone. I've got a lot to do before I can move on to somewhere new. I hope you find Daniel. Please be careful both of you and I'll think about you often. Look after each other. Now, hugs, or else!"

-o-

The first light of dawn was just visible on the horizon when Kate pulled out of the motel car park and turned onto the road, heading towards the flat she had called home for the past eight years. She felt a deep seated sadness that she wouldn't be going into work that morning. She had enjoyed working at the hospital and made some good friends there. The more she thought about the people and things she was having to give up, the more her vision blurred. Turning into a blind bend, she almost didn't see the police patrol car parked just around the corner and she had to swerve out into the road to avoid slamming into it's rear end. Shaking, she pulled up at the side of the road a few yards in front of the patrol car. Looking up into her rear view mirror, she saw the drivers side of the patrol car open.

"Oh great! Shouldn't have parked straight after the bend, _asshat_. Oops! Now, now Kate. Pull it together. Smile for the nice police officer."

She lowered her window as the uniformed cop unhurriedly strolled towards her car. Kate turned and smiled as the officer came to a halt by her side, bending down to peer at her through the open window. _Odd. Why's he wearing sunglasses? It's still dark! Man, what a jerk._

"Morning Officer. I'm _truly_ sorry about that, I didn't expect anyone would be parked just the other side of the bend. I assume you want to see my licence?"

The officer grinned and removed his sunglasses. Kate frowned, there was something familiar about the guy's face.

"That won't be necessary ma'am. You won't be driving this, or any _other _vehicle, ever again anyway."

"I'm sorry? What did you just say?"

"I _said_...Good bye _Maiden_."

It was too late for Kate to do anything when she finally saw the barrel of the officer's gun pointing directly at her.

"Wha?...,...

Kate had just enough time for one, final, fleeting thought before she died. _Detective Phillips?_

**-o-o-o-**


	15. Chapter 15

**C15**

-o-o-o-

Worn out, Sam and Dean shared the task of adding salt to the lines of sugar already spread on the floor by the door and along the bottom of each window. That done, they both headed gratefully to their respective beds. A couple of hours into his sleep, Dean and his baby were once again flying together, _easily_ leaving behind the variety of other vehicles that trailed in their wake, and which bore a close resemblance to those Dean had loved so much to watch when he was younger and heavily into the Wacky Races cartoons.

-o-

Outside their room, touched by the first of the sun's rays, an almost transparent form hovered a few feet off the ground. Ageless, the female was glorious, ethereally beautiful. Tall and lithe, her slender yet muscular frame was swathed from shoulder to ankle in the glittering, dew adorned silken strands of a spider's delicate lace web that ebbed and swirled, flowing over and around her body, intimately stroking her, lovingly caressing her, as it continuously, slowly, moved up, down and across her, driven by independent life. Waist length rich auburn hair shot through with blonde the colour of spun gold softly drifted in luxurious waves, gently blown by a non existent breeze. Almond shaped eyes the colour of warm honey and framed by long, dark, sweeping eyelashes gazed at the external shell of the Hunters' room, and her eyes instantly narrowed, turning orange in her irritation and anger when she sensed what waited for her on the other side of the door. She would not enter that place. She would never allow herself to have to grub around the floor on her knees like a common servile goblin in front of _any_ human!

-o-

The change in her mood was reflected by a subtle change within the currently blurred palette of rainbow of colours held within her shimmering wings; their previous pastel shades turning a fraction darker, becoming a little more defined, a little more sharply into focus. Mabb turned away. Unshed tears of both her anger and of grief turned her eyes into a deeper, more ambered hue. One of her human Maidens had been killed. Like a tree in full blossom that had been cruelly and maliciously cut down in an act of wanton destruction. Mabb had felt the hum of the moment when the Fey bonded human life ended, and had determined that the death of her Maiden was not a thing she would ignore. _Someone_ had to know the depth of the anger that Mabb felt at the loss of what was hers. Mabb knew it would be a harsh lesson, but it was one she felt compelled to deliver in order that it may serve as a warning to all. She was the Queen of the Sidhe Fey, and she was _not_ to be taken lightly.

"_Until later then, Hunters_."

The ghostly form that hung in the air began to fade, like summer into autumn, and then was gone.

-o-

Sam woke first, his eyes opening to a morning filled with sunshine. Despite that, he felt a slight sense of disquiet. He couldn't help feeling that he had woken in response to having been disturbed by something, but he had no clue as to what that something could be. The sound of steady breathing told him that Dean was still sleeping. Sam laid without moving for a while, contemplating the day ahead, what it might hold for both of them, whether he should try to insist that his brother not use himself as the bait to bring the Pooka to them, whether they would both find that, in the end, they had embraced every risk pointlessly, only to discover that little Daniel was already dead. Sam admonished himself, he knew that entering a hunt dwelling on what might go wrong could sometimes lead to those thoughts becoming a self fulfilling prophesy. _C'mon man. Pull yourself together and haul your maudling ass outta bed. There's a promise to the father of a missing baby needs makin' good.._

-o-

It was the tempting aroma of freshly brewed coffee that did it for Dean and he opened one eye fractionally, peering through his eyelashes to see if Sam was going to earn the title of _world's best little brother_ by following through and bringing a mug over to him whilst he was still in bed. _Yup! Here he comes. Time to pretend I'm asleep so's he does that nice wake up thingy. _Blowing directly on to the hot drink, Sam made his way to Dean's bedside. Looking down at his older brother, Sam smiled to himself. Dean _did_ sometimes manage to fool him into thinking that he was still sleeping. But there were also times, like now, that his brother forgot that the sound of his breathing when asleep was different to when he was relaxed, but awake. Even so, Sam went along with the pretence, knowing this was one of Dean's favourite ways of being woken. Careful not to slosh hot coffee over himself, Sam sat himself down gently on the edge of his brother's bed, then blew across the top of the mug a couple of times, sending the smell of the strong brew drifting in Dean's direction. Next came the verbal prompt, the one Dean always ignored when he was faking sleep.

"Dean, I've brought you your coffee. Open your eyes bro', time to wake up."

Finally, Sam moved on to stage three, which meant another verbal prompt accompanied by the back of Sam's hand softly stroked down Dean's cheek a couple of times. Although Dean had never commented, Sam often wondered whether that simple action tied into a deeply submerged memory Dean had of their mother?

"Dean? Wake up Dean. Coffee's getting cold."

Dean shifted, moving closer and snuggling his head up against the warmth of Sam's leg before finally opening his eyes lazily and blinking up at his brother.

"Mmmcoffee?"

"Right here. You gonna keep your face glued to my thigh all day? Or are you gonna sit up?"

"S'warm."

"But your coffee won't be soon."

-o-

Sam grinned as he walked away, leaving Dean happily sat up in bed, slurping contentedly at his drink. It was a routine during which Dean willingly accepted a rare brief moment of shared contact between them, and Sam never let on when he knew Dean was already awake and waiting. Grabbing his wallet from where he had left it on the kitchen counter, Sam turned to Dean.

"I'm heading out on the breakfast run. What shall I get you?"

Dean instantly switched into high alert, putting his coffee on the bedside table before swinging his legs out of bed.

"No Sam. I don't think either of us should go anywhere alone today. Gimme a second to dress and we can _both_ go out for breakfast. Ok?"

Sam nodded.

"You're right. Hurry up then, my stomach thinks my throat's been cut already."

**-o-o-o-**


	16. Chapter 16

**C16**

-o-o-o-

The nearby diner was still relatively quiet when the brothers arrived and Dean led the way to a booth which allowed them to keep an eye on the door, as well as on the comings and goings in the small car park out front. Their waitress was the late middle-aged motherly type, happy to be presented with an opportunity to fuss and cluck over two such "nice looking and well mannered boys," teasing Sam by advising him that it was high time his hair had a trim, and ensuring they both got extra on their breakfast plates to "help keep your strength up." Both brothers enjoyed their waitress' maternal playfulness, and her open delight at seeing them both clear their plates. All-in-all, breakfast turned out to be a pleasant and relaxed moment for the Hunters.

-o-

Dean wandered over to wait by the till to pay for their meals, having added an additional healthy tip to the, purposefully, cash payment as a heartfelt thanks to their kindly waitress. Sam took his time in finishing off his _fancy assed coffee_ as Dean referred to it, in comfort before strolling across to his brother just as Dean finished paying. Despite the nature of the Hunt and concern for little Daniel, Sam still struggled to recall when he last felt as chilled as he did at that moment.

"You set to go?"

Sam nodded his head towards the sign for the toilets.

"Just need to, er, check' the facilities."

"'K. See you back at the car."

-o-

Happily full, feeling rested and refreshed after a rare undisturbed few hours sleep, and with the bright morning sun suspended in a clear, brilliant blue sky, it was the kind of moment that would have many individuals starting to cheerily whistle some chirpy little tweet, tweet tune. Dean thanked his lucky stars that he _wasn't_ one of those dumbasses! As he neared the Impala, a dark blue saloon swept into the car park, going around Dean and pulling into the empty gap next to Dean's car. Whoever the driver was, they managed to pull up close alongside the Impala, so close that there was no more than a 10" gap between the Impala's driver side door and the saloon's front passenger door. With a huff of irritation, Dean adjusted his direction and walked around to the driver's side of the saloon, arriving just as the vehicle's door was pushed open. Dean, keen to get back to his feeling comfortable zone, called out before he saw the saloons driver.

"Hey Pal! Don't bother getting out. You need to move your car over, you've blocked me in."

The male driver of the saloon climbed out of his car anyway, then turned to face Dean, wearing the kind of supercilious smile that could irritate a Saint, but do much worse than that to Dean Winchester.

"Why, hello Dean! Did I hear you say I've blocked you in? Really? How silly of me!"

Dean returned the man's smile with a tight, grim one of his own.

"Detective Phillips. My, my, what a pleasant surprise! And yes. Unluckily for me, you've managed to under-estimate how much room I'll need to get in my car. I'd appreciate you moving over some. My brother and I need to be on our way. I can highly recommend the all day breakfast at this place.

Phillips gazed around the car park.

"Sam's with you is he? I can't see him anywhere. Still, I ought to know that, given how_ close_ you two seem to be, where's there's one of you, the other will_ certainly_ be taking up the _rear_! ... Actually Dean, it's odd I've bumped into you. There's been some news on the local radio earlier about someone you know. I'm surmising you haven't heard it yet?"

Dean frowned.

"Why would you think I know anyone around here? I've already told you, me and my brother are just passing through on our road trip."

"Actually Dean, I think it possibly _would_ be more correct to say the report was about someone you met during your brief hospital stay."

"While I was in...? Crap! You mean _Kate_? What's happened Phillips? _What's happened to Kate_?"

-o-

Coming out of the diner, Sam noticed a dark blue saloon exiting the diner's car park. Watching the car go, Sam frowned. There'd been no saloon parked up when he and Dean arrived, and non had arrived whilst they were having breakfast. Feeling suddenly uneasy, Sam's gaze flicked to the Impala, and his stomach rolled and twisted. He moved into a run, his direction taking him towards the figure of his brother sat on the ground by the side of the car, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head bowed so that his forehead rested on his knees. Both Deans hands clasped around the back of his neck, something was seriously wrong.

-o-

Dean didn't respond to the sound of Sam's running feet. Skidding to a halt, Sam squatted down in front of Dean. Uncertain what else to do, he reached out and tentatively put his hand over his brother's interlocked fingers. Dean flinched at the touch, but Sam maintained his contact.

"Dean? What's wrong? What's happened? Talk to me."

Slipping his hands from beneath Sam's, Dean let his arms drop limply down against his sides, both palms resting on the tarmac ground. When Dean raised his head, Sam was shocked by the expression of despair on his brother's face and the tears that were running freely.

"Dean, _please_?"

"She's dead Sam ... Kate ... Someone shot her. Shot her at point blank range after she left us last night. Kate...She was sat in her car. Sonova... Sammy, she never even made it home from leaving the motel!"

Instinctively, Sam pulled Dean forward, wrapping his arms around his distraught sibling and, after a moment, feeling Dean's arms snake around his waist. For a while, that's how they both stayed. The pair of them sharing their combined grief, trying to comfort each other, sat on the tarmac of a small car park frontage of a cheerful little diner; studiously being ignored by everyone who passed them.

-o-

Since those two nice young men left, things had become busier inside the diner as the late breakfast customers began to arrive, along with the first groups of trippers stopping off and politely ordering a drink they didn't really want in order to feel entitled to use the toilet facilities before continuing their journey. Grace's feet were beginning to feel the strain and she popped her head into the kitchen where the chef and his two assistants were all hard at work.

"Jack? Have you heard from young Karen? She was due ten minutes ago, and I could really do with taking five."

The chef glanced over to Grace.

"No calls from her. She'll be here. You know how that girl is, she can't leave the house till she's plastered on the makeup and decided she's fit to face her adoring public."

Grace laughed. For the past four years, Karen had been regularly reminding them that she was only working at the diner temporarily, that she stayed 'cos she could see they needed her and she was happy to help out while she waited for the right acting job to come along. It wasn't so unusual for the girl to be late, but she worked hard, pulled her weight and was always cheerful with the customers. That meant she was forgiven for a lot. Turning to go back to her customers, Grace glanced out of one of the windows and into the car park, looking for any sign of Karen's car pulling in. What she _actually_ saw had Grace immediately turning back to the kitchen.

"Jack honey? I'm sorry, but I need to borrow Chris for a few minutes to cover for me. There's a couple of customers who came in earlier. They're still in the car park, looks like something might be wrong. I want to go check on them, make sure they're ok."

Jack gave a nod of his head to the older of his assistants.

"Go on Chris. If Karen arrives, leave her to it and get back in here. And you make sure to keep an eye on Grace while she's outside, ok?"

-o-

Grace quickly made two regular coffee's in take out beakers. Whatever the problem was, Grace firmly believed that a nice hot drink always helped. She was sure those two boys would agree. Removing her apron, she grabbed a drink in each hand and hurried outside, heading determinedly towards Sam and Dean. Neither of them noticed her approach. Grace's polite cough startled the brothers; they quickly turned and looked up at her. Grace was both shocked and concerned to see that both the young men had very recently been crying. She couldn't help wondering if maybe they were something more than the simple friends she had assumed they were? Had the pair of them had a lover's tiff?

"Um, I hope you don't mind me intruding? It's just, I saw you were both still out here and I figured something might be wrong. I thought I'd come over and see if there was anything I could do? Oh, and I brought coffee, on the house, thought that maybe you could both do with one?"

Grace's years of working with people meant that she didn't miss the sudden flush of embarrassment before the short haired young man turned his face away and quickly began to wipe at it with one hand. The one that she had teased about his long hair pushed himself up onto his feet and looked down at her gratefully.

"Thank you ma'm..."

"Please, my name's Grace, and you're welcome."

"Grace...That's very kind of you. My brother and I, we had some very sad news, about a friend of ours...It's come as a shock, to us both."

Grace looked up at Sam in genuine sympathy and understanding, so much so that Sam felt his eyes start to fill up again at the woman's innate kindness.

"Oh Honey. I'm so sorry to hear that"

The other brother was also back on his feet now and Grace looked sadly from one to the other, noting the similar sweep of their eyebrows and the cheekbones that gave them both their fine featured looks. Similarities she had missed before.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Would you like to come back inside? I can sort somewhere for you to sit that's out of the direct view of nosey customers. You'd be _more_ than welcome to stay as long as you need, you'd just have to give me a nod whenever you wanted your drink re-filling. I'm pretty sure that Jack, he's the head chef, anyway he's bound to have some whiskey hidden somewhere and he'll not mind if I add a drop to your coffee. Would you like to do that?"

The shorter of the brothers stepped up close to Grace and, to her surprise, pulled her into a tight hug. He spoke softly, directly into Grace's ear.

"Thank you Grace. What you've done? It means a lot. People like you remind me why I do my job, make it mean something, make me want to carry on."

Grace didn't know what job the young man had, but she heard the absolute honesty running through his words, and she was amazed how good they made her feel, and how glad she was that she had come out to check on the pair. The taller man put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Dean? It's time we were going, there's some arrangements we need to sort out...Are you with me?"

The one she now knew was called Dean nodded at his brother.

"I am, and you're right. We do have to go Grace, but again, thank you. Really."

Dean silently handed the keys to the Impala over to Sam and, with a last sad smile at Grace, he walked around to the passenger side and climbed in.

-o-

Karen's bright red ford pulled to a standstill near where Grace stood and a young woman in her early twenties climbed out. Wandering over to the older woman, Karen looked to see what it was that had Grace's attention and was just in time to see the rear end of a black car disappear out of sight.

"Friends of yours?"

Grace nodded.

"I think so...Yes. I do believe they are."

She looked down at her hands.

"_Damn it_! I forgot to give them their coffee!"

Karen grinned and relieved Grace of one of the cups.

"I'll make sure this one doesn't go to waste."

**-o-o-o-**


	17. Chapter 17

**C17**

-o-o-o-

As soon as the Impala left the diner car park behind, Dean pulled out his cell. Sam glanced across at his brother.

"Who're you ringing?"

"Getting a number for the local police."

Sam waited for Dean to finish before asking the question he had been holding onto since finding Dean sat on the ground beside the car.

"Dean, how did you find out about Kate? Did you hear it on the news?"

Dean stared straight ahead as he answered.

"No. That bastard Phillips pulled into the car park while I was waiting for you. _He_ told me. Looked to be enjoying doing it too."

"Then what?"

"He'd blocked me in, I'm sure it was intentionally. He told me about Kate when he got out of his car, then instead of going in the diner, he got back in his car and drove off like the blood clot that he is."

"Why're you ringing the police? What are you hoping to do?"

"Talk to Detective Rocha."

-o-

"I'm sorry? ... _Yeah _I've met him. Older guy, not long till retirement. He's leading on the kidnapped baby case with his jerkoff partner, Detective Phillips. ... My name? Dean Osborne... Yeah_, that_ Dean ... Look lady, if he_ doesn't_, then who the _frigg _was I talking to? ... What? No. No thank you. Just forget it, it doesn't matter." ... _Damnit_!"

"Dean?"

"Seems they don't have a Detective Rocha working for their department, Never have had. Detective Phillips is the sole lead officer in the case of baby Daniel and has been from when the case was opened. Sammy? What the Hell's _happening_ around here? _Please_ tell me you spoke to Rocha as well, and that you could see him when he and the loser came to the hospital? 'Cos right now, I'm thinkin' maybe I'mgoing bat shit!"

Sam kept his eyes on the road and remained quiet for a while, his expression thoughtful.

"Well Sam? Talk to me. Am I going crazy?"

"No Dean, you're not. I shook his hand remember? I saw him and spoke to him just like you did, and I don't think eitherone of us is cracking up...In fact, I think I know what's going off, and I promise, you're _really_ not going to like it, but hear me out, ok?"

"Way to make me nervous! Go ahead then. Enlighten me!"

Sam sighed.

"I think Detective Rocha was the Pooka."

-o-

"You...?"

"_Think_ about it Dean. What do we know about Pooka's?"

"They've got no fashion sense that's for sure, and they've got a head like a giant meatball... _Ohhh...That scrawny legged sonovabitch!_...They can take on human form! Phillips the prick and that puke spawned Pooka are working this whole damn deal together, aren't they?...What would you bet that this isn't the first child abduction case that Phillips has been the lead officer on?"

"If he _has _been the lead on similar cases, chances are that none of them ever ended with the baby being found, at least not alive."

"Stop the car Sam."

Sam frowned, confused. Another half mile or so and they would be back at the motel, here there were a few industrial units huddled together one side of the road, and a landfill site at the other.

"Why?"

"Just _stop the Goddamn car_...**_Now_**_!_"

-o-

The Impala had barely come to a standstill before Dean was out of the car. Uncertain what he should do, Sam sat at the wheel in silence whilst Dean strode a few yards up ahead before coming to a standstill, hands in his pockets, staring towards the visible area of the landfill site, surrounded by high chain-link fencing topped by coils of barbed wire. The only sounds were the idling of the Impala's engine, and the harsh, despairing sound that was the cries of a flock of seagulls swooping and diving in the air above a hill formed of waste and rubbish that had yet to be processed and buried. At last, Dean turned to look back at Sam.

"You go on ahead. I need to walk."

Hearing that, Sam climbed out of the car. One hand resting on top of the driver's door and the other on the Impala's roof, Sam shook his head.

"Not a good idea bro'."

Dean went back to watching the seagulls without responding, and again Sam waited, letting Dean take what time he needed. Eventually Dean spoke without looking at his brother.

"You know I'm probably going to kill Phillips?"

Sam looked down at his own feet and paused, considering Dean's statement before raising his head again to answer.

"Yeah. I think I'd already figured you might."

"He's human."

"I know."

"I think it could be him who shot Kate. I think he knew what she was Sam, and I think he knew she'd try to help us."

Sam simply nodded his head in agreement.

"Him working with the Pooka convinces me that the asswipe _is_ a Betrayer."

Sam turned his gaze up to the sky, following the path of a pair of seagulls who were loudly squabbling in flight.

"He's still a human"

Dean glanced back at Sam.

"Yes. He is...Does it bother you?"

-o-

Sam took the time to consider Dean's question, turning inside, knowing that his answer did matter to Dean but also aware that even if he said yes, it bothered him, in the end, Dean would still follow his own preferred course of action regarding the Betrayer. If he said no, it didn't bother him, would he be saying that just to make it easier for Dean? Would Dean view his answer then as compliance? Permission? Absolution? Sam tried to focus on how he felt, not how his answer would sit with Dean. He heard Dean shuffle his feet, becoming impatient. Sam was ready.

"Alright, here's the thing, I don't think Phillips is likely to surrender or back down and, if it's you or him, or between him and me, I'd obviously want you or I to be the one who walks away. I don't think, come the time, that either one of us will really have a choice. I think our _only_ option will be to kill him, I think he'll make certain of it if he's backed into a corner. So I guess my answer's no, it doesn't bother me. I think it's something we'll _have_ to do, whether we want to or not."

Dean's eyes held Sam's for a second, then with a nod of acceptance, Dean walked back to the car and sat himself back down in the passenger seat, saying nothing for the rest of the journey, instead immersing himself in his own thoughts. Sam's mind was on his brother. They were both upset to hear that Kate was dead, they were both shocked to think that it was almost certain they had unknowingly been face to face with the very Pooka they were hunting whilst Dean was in hospital, and they both wanted to ensure that the Betrayer, Phillips, was never a threat to anyone, whether child or adult, ever again. But he and Dean always dealt with things like this in very different ways, and Sam was worried about what Dean might do, and whether Dean would forget to be careful, being too willing to sacrifice himself in order to take the Pooka and Phillips down, forgetting the real goal of finding Baby Daniel and, hopefully, returning him to his parents. Sam decided he was going to have to keep an especially close eye on his reactive brother.

**-o-o-o-**


	18. Chapter 18

**C18**

-o-o-o-

The Impala had been parked in front of the brothers' room, with it's trunk towards the door, making it easier for them to take stock of the equipment and weapons they kept hidden in there under a false bottom, and to select what weaponry and equipment they hoped would help them deal with both human and fey and get the job done. Whilst fey, sidhe or otherwise, were not something they knowingly came across regularly, their research had revealed that a selection of their more commonly used armoury was not only useful when confronting ghosts and spirits, but according to their research and what they had been told, they were also said to be effective against members of feykind. Sam reached into the depths of the trunk and pulled out an aluminium case. Opening it, he gazed at the weapon inside, it had been a long time since either of them had used a crossbow on a hunt. Although the cased weapon was a high powered pistol crossbow, crossbows in general held a longstanding appeal for Sam. When his father had first begun training Sam to use the weapon, it had been with a full size handcrafted bow with a gleaming wooden stock, and Sam had taken to the weapon instantly. He recalled having devoted quite a bit of time and energy to following his older brother around with an apple in hand, trying to persuade Dean to stand with it on his head so Sam could try knocking the apple off it's perch. It was a request that Dean had always refused. Gazing now at the pistol crossbow, Sam vaguely wondered if Dean would agree if he asked him again.

"Forget it. Still ain't happening dude."

Sam feigned innocence.

"Not gonna work, I know _exactly_ what you were thinkin'. Any particular reason for letting her out the trunk?"

Sam grinned.

"Definitely."

Reaching back into the trunk, Sam pulled out a rectangular tin. Inside was three dozen heavy duty, black carbon bolts fletched in three different colours. Sam picked out twelve that were all fletched in the same scarlet red. He held one up for Dean's inspection.

"Carbon shafts, steel broadheads, each broadhead fitted over with a thin iron jacket."

Dean looked at the bolts in open surprise.

"I'd forgotten we'd even got them. Nice one Sammy!"

Sam spotted the end of a leather belt.

"Pass me that?"

Sam immediately fastened the belt around his waist and set it so the short quiver was hanging against the outside of his leg, checking it's position by popping a bolt into it, then testing how accessible the bolt was. A slight adjustment, and he was happy. Sam and never confessed to Dean, but whenever he used the crossbow, he couldn't stop himself imagining himself as one of Robin Hood's men, even though it wasn't a longbow he was carrying. Sam always preferred Robin Hood to William Tell. Dean would most certainly tease him about it, if Sam ever disclosed his imaginings to him. Dean picked up an empty, medium sized old aluminium drinks flask.

"What should it be? Salt or sugar?"

"Salt, we've got fey _and_ ghosts covered then."

"You think there'll be ghosts on top of everything else?"

Sam shrugged.

"Who knows? But we'll be able to deal if there is."

-o-

Handing the flask to Sam, Dean leaned further into the trunk and began rummaging around under towels, oilcloths, a couple of ancient wool blankets and anything else he decided was in his way.

"What're you looking for? Maybe I'll know where whatever it is, _is?_"

Dean now had the whole of his upper body bent over the trunk whilst, muttering, he began searching around at the very back of the trunk space.

"Dean? Did you hear me? What are you feeling around for? You're gonna end up over-balancing and I can't promise not to laugh when you nose-dive right in to there."

"Hold on, just let me...Ha! _Got you_! ... Um...Sammy? Grab my legs and pull me back out of here? ... Sam! Stop laughing and help me up! ... Anytime durin' the next day or two would be good!"

-o-

Checking, cleaning and repairing weapons was more than a task for Dean. For one thing his, and to Dean's more importantly Sam's, life might depend on it. A malfunctioning weapon could lead to disaster. It was also one of the rare times that Dean Winchester was still. For him, it was like giving the fidgety kid in class a lump of blue-tac. His hands busy, he would become focused, silent. Almost meditative, the ritual allowed his body and mind to relax. Surrounded by cloths, oils, beeswax and a range of delicate tools it was his quiet time, and it gave him the space to think things through or to plan. Knowing that, Sam would always try to avoid disturbing Dean unless absolutely necessary. Sam sat himself down in one of the tub chairs, coffee to hand, and began compiling a "shopping list" of things they needed according to their earlier research findings and checking the local area map for primarily shopping centre directions and any sign of areas of deciduous woodland. Although Sam being Sam, he also vaguely curious about any place names or local landmark areas that could potentially denote any ancient sites that long ago may have been associated with local legends of fey activity.

-o-

Sam sat back and read over the list he had created. Three items needed a trip into the right type of woodland, where Sam thought they may also be able to bag a forth item off his list. A further couple of items, Sam expected to find in a pharmacy or herbalist store without any difficulties. Leather they already had, but he would be happy if he found a general store or, better yet, a builder's merchant. There was an item that Dean had jotted down that Sam was still confused by. Raising himself out of the chair, he wandered across to his laptop. Opening up a search engine, Sam typed in _Hag Stone _and quickly lost himself in reading. After a while, he sat upright and gazed at the laptop screen thoughtfully. He had no idea where they might find themselves a Hag Stone. It seemed to be that the best place was on a beach at the shoreline. Unfortunately, the nearest coastal area looked to be a good five hours away. Sam glanced at his watch, there wasn't enough time if he and Dean hoped to end this thing tonight. He began to unconsciously drum his fingers on the table top.

-o-

"So pre-occupied, my Hunter."

At the unexpected voice from behind him, Sam shot up from the dining chair, knocking it over backwards, and spun around on the spot, despite the voice clearly not belonging to Dean, Sam still had the crazy hope that somehow it _was_ Dean standing behind him. Sam's crazy hope however, as he had expected, was swiftly dashed.

"How the Hell did you get in here?"

**-o-o-o-**

**Feedback would be helpful :) Chick xxxx**


	19. Chapter 19

**C19**

-o-o-o-

"I wished it, and it is so, Sam Winchester."

Sam took a step back from the auburn haired, honey eyed woman.

"You're fey?"

Ignoring him, she glanced around the motel room, which Sam suddenly felt hyper aware looked cringingly shabby with the fey female standing in it. Her eyes came to rest on the figure of Dean. Sam too looked at his brother. Dean was sat cross legged in the middle of his bed, a length of what appeared to be twisted string looped over one hand whilst with his other hand he was clearly reaching for a block of beeswax, when it looked as if someone had targeted him with their remote, and hit _pause_. The stranger gracefully turned from Sam and walked/glided towards Dean. It was then that Sam became very aware of what she was very nearly wearing. Despite his intense embarrassment, he found it difficult to look away. With a mouth suddenly feeling very dry, he coughed and spoke.

"Don't you touch him! Leave him alone!"

The female stopped, half turning swiftly and glaring back at Sam. Sam's heart felt like it skipped a beat as her angry eyes fixed on him and he noticed with some discomfort that the only difference between her eyes and those of a daemon, was that only her irises had turned black.

-o-

"Do **_not_** think to give me orders, **_boy child_**. I do not welcome such audacity from those as lowly as you. I shall do **_very_** much as I please. **_You_** shall remain silent until I wish for you to speak!"

There was a commanding tone of authority in the fey's words. Sam had the feeling that she was used to being obeyed and he had an uneasy sensation that told him it didn't often go well for those who challenged her. Sam instinctively knew, without needing to test it out, that his power of speech had been curtailed. Despite his bone deep desire to stop the creature going near his brother, he forced himself to remain where he was standing. Simple logical told him that he probably wouldn't get far before he found he could no longer move as well. Sam watched in anxious silence whilst the fey inspected Dean, walking around the bed, considering his brother from different angles and generally looking very much as though she was judging a piece of sculpture. She continued to appraise Dean whilst she spoke.

"This quest which the two of you are engaged in, Sam Winchester, places both yourself and this brother of yours at grave risk. Are you aware that this one has been further marked? Did my Maiden make certain to tell you this, before her..._slaughter_? Speak now."

There were so many words, questions, curses, all vying to be the first to be expressed by Sam at that moment, but Sam held them all back.

"The Maiden...Kate...She referred to Dean as being _Twice fey touched_."

The female turned towards Sam. Her lack of any useful clothing again registered with him and he fought to control his breathing and appear calm, staying still and silent as she bowed her head a little and looked thoughtful.

"Kate?...Ah, yes, that was the human name she answered to...I confess, I had forgotten."

-o-

The female lifted her head and stared at Sam again. Sam forced himself to focus on the creature's face and return her gaze. Once again her eyes captivated him and he was surprised to see they had become exactly the same shade of green as Dean's.

"The Maiden, the one you called Kate, she was mine. I held her as one of my favourites. I am here before you only because I require settlement for her death, Hunter. I seek an end to the one who wantonly slayed her. Do you understand, boy child?"

A small amount of relief juddered through Sam.

"You're Sidhe?"

The eyes of the fey suddenly grew cold.

"_Foolish_ _little man_! I am so very much _more_ than that. I am _Queen_ of _all_ Sidhe, and _you_ shall show your respect in my presence..._Now_!"

Sam responded instantly. Dropping to one knee he bowed his head, prepared to subjugate himself in front of the Sidhe Queen if it would help to gain her favour. Recognising that she could prove to be a powerful and useful allie.

"I _deeply _apologise Your Majesty. And I humbly ask that you forgive my human ignorance? I am, _truly_, honoured by your royal presence. Please Your Majesty, advise me. How may my brother and I be of service to you?"

Sam didn't hear her move, and yet her cool, delicate hand lifted his chin, forcing Sam to look up at her. He suddenly felt his temperature increase, along with his heart rate and he found himself wondering whether she was intentionally standing so close, especially given the fact that he was on his knees, and she was all but naked directly in front of him. He tried to distract himself, turning his thought to his brother and wondering whether, in his currently motionless state, Dean could still see what was happening around him?

"Here me, Hunter. I have no concern for the human child you seek and who has been taken by my dark kin. Find the babe or don't, it matters not to me. I do not care. I _only_ care that the human who stole my Maiden from me is made to pay dearly for their insolence and disrespect."

Sam saw his opportunity.

"Of course Majesty. Please, forgive my lack of knowledge and my crude enquiry. Is it usual that your Majesty offer anything in return for such a service?"

The Sidhe Queen was silent and a small anxious internal voice told Sam that he might have pushed his luck too far. At last, the Queen answered.

"I shall gift to you, one thing that you believe you need and one thing more, as an aid to your quest for the child, Hunter."

On the floor next to Sam a small collection of items appeared. Sam did a quick visual scan of what there was, internally comparing what he saw against the items on his shopping list. There were two pendant size triangular shapes, both of which looked to be made by three small wooden twigs having been delicately bound together with a fine thread, a square of grey leather looking material that actually appeared to be impossibly soft for leather, it's soft folds looking more like silk. Sam also saw a tangle of leafy foliage and a small oval shaped and lidded copper box of around the size of a pill box. Sam gave a small smile when he spotted the two Hag Stones, recognising them as being the one thing he and Dean believed they needed. The thought crossed Sam's mind that, even with the addition of the stones, the small pile of mixed objects didn't look like much for he and Dean to be putting their faith in. Sam was satisfied that nothing had been missed, but unless it was inside the copper box, he couldn't see anything extra in the collection. The fey queen smiled in amusement when she realised what Sam was looking for.

-o-

"By your foot, boy child."

The Queen pointed to an empty patch of flooring at the side of Sam's right foot. Confused, Sam put out his hand. At first he flinched and instinctively pulled his hand away again when he felt something warm and very snake-like to the touch laying coiled in the area that the Queen had had indicated. The Queen chuckled.

"It will not bite boy child. You will only see the form of my temporary gift once it is successfully hung around the Pooka's neck. Once in place, _do not let go_! Only remove it once the Pooka no longer breathes."

Sam nodded his understanding before raising his eyes up to the queen again. There was something different about her. Sam was startled to realise that her eyes had again changed colour and that they now matched the colour of his own. He risked a question.

"What about Daniel? The stolen baby? My brother and I are doing all of this to take him back home to his human parents, where he belongs."

The Queen's eyes began to alter colour again, settling once they reached the colour of pale honey.

"Kill the Pooka. The babe shall be returned to you at the Pooka's final breath. Fail, and unless there is a bargain to be struck, the child shall then remain with my Un-sidhe kin until such a time when he is no longer useful to them. When it is eventually the time for him to pass; he will both die and rot entrapped within their lands. No human shall ever have set eyes on him again."

Sam held his head high and met the fey Queen's gaze full on.

"We've no intention of failing. Believe me. That baby is coming home, whatever it takes!"

The Queen gave Sam a sad smile as she took three steps back from him and began to slowly raise both slender arms up from her sides and into the air, her whisper light wings coming into being as she did so, the shifting brilliance of the Queens magic shooting through them, flickering and shimmering in pinpricks of light so intense that Sam had to look away, screwing his eyes up to protect them, trying stop his vision from becoming blurred. The Queen spoke, her voice becoming fainter, shrinking finally to a soft whisper that Sam strained to hear.

"Even if what it takes is the gift of your beautiful brother into the hands of my Un-sidhe kin? ... _Even then_, _Hunter_?"

"Sam? C'mere will you an grab the other end of this crossbow string while I wax it for you? Sam? ... _Sammy_? ..."

**-o-o-o-  
**_Feedback always welcome :)_


	20. Chapter 20

**C20**

-o-o-o-

Dean sat thoughtful and staring off into space whilst wearing a slightly stunned expression. Sam gave his brother time to digest what he had just heard, patiently waiting for some kind of response from him. Dean turned wide green eyes back to Sam and leaned a touch closer to him.

"Dude, just run it past me once more. _What_ was this fey chick wearing?"

Sam turned on his _Stop being a drooling dumbass, this is seriously serious_ bitch face. Irritated at how unconcerned his brother was, he stood up from the kitchen table and set off on a good back and forth pace, directly in front of his older brother and giving Dean a seething glare on each turn. Oblivious, Dean watched his brother's pacing, still hoping for more detail.

"You can be a complete _ass _Dean, you know?"

Dean merely grinned up at Sam, his head turning to the left, to the right, then back again as he continued tracking Sam's up and down stomp.

"Aw...You're just sayin' that bro'. But, since you brought the subject up, how would you describe _hers?_ Her ass I mean...I bet it was peach perfect, wasn't it? I still can't believe she turned _me_ into a statue, but gave _you_ the free show! What's _with_ all these fairies? How come none of them like to see me move, huh? What's _that _all about?"

"Dean! Please, _focus_! We've got to come up with a plan. I told you what she said when she left. Believe it or not, I'd kinda like to avoid ending up in the position where I'm having to choose between you and little Daniel! _Understand_?"

Dean sighed and stared at the wood grain in the table top.

"Really, it's not a hard choose, man. You bring Daniel home to his parents."

-o-

Sam stopped his pacing, he'd known already that if it came down to it, his brother would see the forfeit of himself as the obvious answer.

"So, if it was _you_ had to choose? You know, between me and the baby, you're saying _you'd_ opt for Daniel?"

Dean really didn't want to have this conversation and he felt his mood beginning to rapidly turn.

"No way I'd ever _have_ to choose Sam. Know why? Because _I_ would never let myself end _up_ in that situation! So, my advice? If you're worried you won't be able to decide, try making certain you don't end up _having_ to, ok? If you can't possibly manage that? It's Daniel. It _has_ to be...And you know it...End of."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief, then without further thought Sam launched, words tumbling out of his mouth without any concern or consideration as to what their impact might be.

"You egotistical piece of _shit_! Listen to yourself Dean. _Oh, I'd never be in that situation._ Sounds like what you're _really_ sayin' is you're better than me. Is that what you meant? I'd like to know only, like I said, it sure as _Hell_ sounded that way!"

"Hey, Sammy! If the cap fits baby brother."

"It's _Sam_, and lets face it. _No_ cap could ever fit a head as big as yours now, could it?"

"Ooh...Sam**_my_**. Tooo cutting! So sharp you damn near sliced off your own tongue!"

"Know what, _Deanie_? Maybe you're actually right. An' obviously, me being so crap at this job, maybe I _do_ need to do somethin' to make sure I don't have'ta decide? So I'm thinkin' maybe I should just offer your ass up as a swap from the get go? It'd sure save me from botherin' to pretend it's a hard choice. You know? I think I like that as a plan. Come right out an' say if they give me the kid, they can have you as a trade. Hey! I bet I could even make like I was gonna miss you. Get them feelin' so bad for me, they might even give me one of your fingers to remember you by. That would be cool. I'd probably even turn your finger into a profit, scrape a couple of cents a year by charging folk to view the relic of _Saint Sacrifice_ himself, Dean friggin' Winchester. Patron Saint of Jerks, Jocks and Jackasses. Yeah, I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving up one finger, after all, we know it's not _that_ bit of you they're interested in, is it?"

"Am I hearing a hint of jealousy there Sammy? Is _that_ what this' really all about? You're upset 'cos they can see my ass is cuter than yours? Is Sammykins all boohoo 'cos nobody's interested in him? You know I can put that right for you don't you? All you gotta do is to stop being such a whiney, boring, miserable, run away, self centred, pig headed, _geek_. I mean, let me be honest with you _Sammy_. You just gotta realise one thing...It's _Superman_ everyone digs, _not_ ClarkKent. Know what I'm sayin'?..._Clark_?"

The first hit came out of nowhere, staggering Dean backwards with it's force. Sam swiftly made certain that he got a couple more freebies in before Dean was able to recover himself...And then all Hell broke loose.

-o-

A short figure with an oversized head and skinny little legs who was dressed in nothing but a striped loin cloth peered over the bottom of the window ledge at the two Hunters, both cut and bleeding, readying to attack each other again. The creature opened it's mouth, revealing rows of sharp, narrow, pointed teeth. Flicking a long black tongue out of it's mouth, it licked it's lips as it watched.

"Hey! _You_! _Git away from that window laddy_. Go an' git yoursel' some clothes on. Go on now. _Git_!"

The Pooka turned at the sound of an angry male human shouting to him. With a hiss at the now hesitant older man, the Pooka reluctantly moved away from the window, gave the man the finger, and was suddenly gone.

-o-

The motel handyman stared in wide eyed astonishment at the spot where the Pooka had just been standing, until it literally vanished into thin air. One moment there, the next, it wasn't. The handyman came to the decision right then and there that he was quitting this job. The stress caused him by his working at this place was, quite obviously, far worse than he had realised. It was time to get out.

-o-

Sam tried to brace himself against his brother's on-coming charge to no avail. Dean may be the shorter of the two, but he was a cannonball of solid muscle and when he rammed into his brother, Sam's breath left his lungs in one loud _whoosh_ as the force resulted in his back slamming hard against the wall. He was given no space or time to try breathing in before Dean's jackhammer fist hit him in the gut and doubled him over. Sam turned his face to one side protectively, fully expecting the bone crunching follow up of Dean's knee aimed directly into his face, but the blow never came. Still bending over, both arms clutched around his stomach, Sam turned his whole body sideways away from Dean's frontal attack. He let himself fall with his shoulder up against the wall, appreciating the support that the wall offered whilst he desperately fought to re-fill his lungs with air. He wondered why Dean wasn't immediately pushing his advantage.

"Sammy?...Sam?...What's happening?...Why're we fightin'?"

Sam slid down the wall until he was sat on the floor. His eyes drifted as he tried to seek out his brother, finally seeing Dean sat on the floor much like he himself was, but with his back leaning up against the foot of his bed. Blood ran unchecked from a split in the centre of Dean's lower lip, more blood dripped from a cut just above one of his eyebrows and Sam noticed that Dean had his forearm clamped up against the ribs on his left hand side. Weary and aching, Sam shook his head, the brief movement instantly prompting a headache to appear and start to join in with the general fun of the moment.

"M'guessin' Un-sidhe...Musta been...Musta been close somewhere. Um, you ok?"

"M'fine. Takes more than you ... Owww. I mean, _how_ did it get started? I'm kinda foggy about it."

"Me too. I dunno. Think we might've both said stuff? ... _Stupid_ stuff."

Dean nodded his head in agreement.

"You know Sam? I _think _I might've called you Clark."

Sam found himself remembering that part and he chuckled, tailing it off with a groan.

"Yeah, you did, I remember that bit. ... Dean?"

"What?"

"You feel like hittin' me some more?"

"No Sammy, I don't."

"That's good then...Me neither."

"_Shittin_' fey!"

Sam coughed a short laugh.

"Couldn't agree more..._Deanie_!"

**-o-o-o-  
**Thank you for popping in to say Hi  
Chick xx


	21. Chapter 21

**C21**

-o-o-o-

"You look like you're off your head on something very illegal doing that."

Having cleaned themselves up and each satisfied themselves that the other wasn't trying to hide any breaks, sprains or internals, Sam appeared out of the kitchen carrying coffee and combined anti-inflammatory and pain control tablets for both of them. Dean was sat on the edge of his bed, he had both hands up in the air and held as if he was pegging washing out on a line. Head back and squinting, he was closely inspecting the empty air between both hands in fascination. Sam winced when Dean turned to him, seeing again the dark bruising his fist had caused to one side of Dean's mouth.

"There's nothin Sam. I can't see anythin' at all, even though I _know_ it's there 'cos I'm holdin' it."

"I think that's how it goes when something's _invisible_. Here, put it down and take these. Just, don't forget where you put it!"

"You gotta admit, it's pretty awesome. No way we're leavin' this behind when we've ganked old Pukey."

Sam gave a short laugh.

"Dean. Once you'd put it in the trunk, you'll never be able to find it again!"

Dean took his drink and tablets from his brother.

"You've got a point there Sammy. I'll have to tie something to it first!"

Sam sat himself down on his own bed facing Dean.

"It's not gonna be an easy thing to lasso Pukey with an invisible rope."

Dean gazed at Sam, knowing already that his brother wasn't going to be happy.

"Yeah...About that. I think there's a better way to make sure we get it over him first time."

"Really? Let me guess...Oh, here's one. How about you act as bait then, while Puckey's chewing on your ass, I sneak up and hook the loop over it's head? That about cover it?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

"If you got a better idea, out with it."

"No. I'm good with it."

-o-

Dean stood up and walked a little stiffly to the kitchen, talking on route.

"Great. So, once you've got the rope around his neck, give the end to me and I'll ... I'll hang onto him while you lay a circle of nails around him."

Dean made his was back from the kitchen.

"Still feelin' ok with the plan?"

Sam was busy taking a closer look at the two wooden pendants.

"Yup. Like the nail part ... What the...? Dean!"

Sam leaned forward, reaching down he brushed the stray sugar off his feet and onto the floor to join the small heap of sugar that was there now Dean had just poured it in front of Sam.

"Sure you don't feel the urge to count it?"

Sam gave his brother an irritated glare.

"No, I don't. How about _you_ count it instead? What was that for?"

"'Cos you didn't argue about me being the bait. You _always_ argue against that one, admit it. Can't blame me for thinking maybe you weren't _you_."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint. If it helps I'm _not_ thrilled about you being dangled on the hook, but seeing as they've got a thing going for you anyway, makes sense I guess. So, if you've finished playing around, any chance we can look at the where and when we're goin' to do this thing?"

-o-

Standing at one side of the kitchen table, Dean glanced across at Sam.

"Ready?"

Sam nodded and moved to drop a piece of butter soft grey leather into a loaf tin that stood on the table between the brothers. On top of the leather Dean dropped a handful of dry leaves taken from the lengths of bindweed that was amongst the items left behind by the Sidhe Queen. Striking a match, Sam held the flame against a corner of the leather, making certain the material was alight before withdrawing his hand. The brothers watched in silence as the leather and leaves burned, sending a pungent greenish smoke into the air. In turn, each brother leaned their head into the plume of smoke and breathed in deeply, filling their lungs and holding their breath for as long as they could before exhaling again slowly. Both Hunters closed their eyes against a brief dizzying sensation as the smoke was filtered and travelled throughout their bodies carried in their blood. They remained standing until the last of the leather and bindweed had burned away and the flames flicked out.

-o-

Dean stared hard at Sam.

"You _sure_ you've got it?"

Sam sighed and patted the air just above his left shoulder.

"Yes Dean. It's right here, ok? Can we go now?"

"And you've got your twiggy bit on?"

"Yes Dean."

"And you remembered to put your socks on inside-out?"

"For Chrissake Dean! Yes! _And_ I've got a pocket full of rusty iron nails, _and_ I sprinkled some dried St John's Wort out of it's little pot and into my shirt pocket. The vacuum flask's been filled with salt_ and_ sugar, crossbow's in the bag, bolts as well, along with Hag stones and your iron dagger. Oh, and from the twenty first century we have torches. Satisfied yet?"

"Maybe. How about what you're carrying on you? Gun loaded?"

"Dean!"

"Well?"

"Chrissake. It's not my first hunt you know!"

Dean remained unmoved by Sam's comment. Sam gave up with a sigh.

"Loaded and in the bag. I even put the safety on mom, ok?"

"Fine. One more thing, then we can get gone."

Sam stared into the palm of his hand at what his brother had just dropped there.

"Seriously Dean?"

"Look, I know what Kate said, but what harm can it do? Put it in a pocket, please?"

With a roll of his eyes Sam did as Dean had asked and pushed the dry chunk of bread into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Happy now?"

"As much as can be. Right brother of mine, let's go rock the Fey!"

"Did you see that on a t-shirt?"

"No, but it'd be kinda cool!"

"I guess, in a strange _What's that guy wearin'?_ _Let's beat him up!_ sorta way."

"After you, Samantha."

"Age before beauty, _Deanie_."

-o-

In the dead of night, the Impala exited the motel car park and turned in the direction that would take the Hunters close to the area where Dean and the Pooka first came across one another.

-o-

Hanging around in the shadows further back down the road, the driver of an innocuous brown Ford waited a while before starting up the car, and steadily following in the direction taken by Sam and Dean.

**-o-o-o-  
**Ooo-er **;p  
**Chick xx


	22. Chapter 22

**C22**

-o-o-o-

"Take the next left. The park's down at the end of that lane."

Turning onto the lane, Dean cleared his throat. Sam instantly turned to glare at his brother's profile suspiciously.

"What?"

"Nothing, just, we need to talk, about earlier."

"When earlier Dean?"

"Just before...You know."

Sam caught up with Dean's hesitancy.

"Ah. You mean the conversation leading up to me hitting you? _That_ just before?"

Dean pulled up at the roadside, facing the park that he and Sam had decided on as their arena.

"Yeah. We need to agree what's goin' to happen if...

"If for some reason I'm left faced with a choice between you and the baby?"

Dean gave Sam a half smile.

"Took the words right out and all that ... So? How would you want to play it?"

Pleading eyes met Dean's.

"Dean...I don't...

"Sammy. Stop it. I need to know what to expect from you."

Sam nodded but turned away from his brother and took a deep breath before reluctantly answering him, Sam's voice so quiet as to almost be a whisper.

"I'll take the deal."

Dean nodded, satisfied.

"Good...Right. Grab the gear then lets go find a spot and get this over with. It's gonna feel good to be able to take little Daniel back home to his parents, where he belongs."

-o-

Dean climbed out of the car, leaving Sam to retrieve the duffle containing their limited and odd mix of gear from the back seat. Not willing to risk accidentally dropping the Sidhe Queen's invisible gift on the floor outside, possibly never to be found again, Sam opened his door and swung his legs out of the car, but remained seated. He cautiously settled the carry straps of the duffle over both shoulders and made certain that the fey rope was still safely looped and slung over one shoulder. Only then did he fully get out of the Impala. Turning to close the passenger door, Sam froze.

-o-

Dean was standing alongside the car with his back to Sam, and both hands held up in the air. At Dean's side, his gun pressed up against Dean's temple, stood Detective Phillips. Phillips gave Sam an almost cheery smile.

"Hi Sam, surprised to see me? Looks like you've collected a bruise or two around your face there pal. So's Deano I noticed. Had some sort'a sibling disagreement have you?"

Sam's world shrank around him as his gaze fixed on one thing, the gun that Phillips held and continued to threaten Dean with.

"How about we all go take a nice walk in the park? Would you be so kind as to go first Sammy?"

Sam's voice was ice, it was razor wire, it was the blade of a master swordsmith slicing the air in two and, it was the sound of a promise.

"My name..is _Sam_."

-o-

Phillips didn't quite manage to cover his sudden doubt quickly enough for it to escape Sam's steady glare. Phillips realised that he had potentially made an amateur mistake, was forced to recognise that he may have vastly underestimated the younger Hunter, previously taking Sam's friendly persona and his desire to keep things polite as a sign of weakness, when compared to the much more obvious danger that Phillips had quickly recognised in Dean. Phillips told himself that he still had control of the situation, that the gun at the older Hunter's head would persuade Sam to play nice. He completely failed to see that he had, in that moment, just made his second big mistake.

-o-

The group came to a stand still at the park gates. Dean looked at the heavy duty chain that had been used to secure the double gates together and the heavy weight padlock that rounded the job off. Unable to highlight what he had noticed to Sam, Dean had to rely on the hope that Sam had also spotted that the padlock and the gates themselves were both made of iron.

"Looks like we might have to give up on the picnic idea Sammy, gates' locked. Good job really, I think we only made sandwiches for two."

Phillips smiled as he tapped the gun lightly against Dean's temple.

"Don't worry. I've got this covered, and I'm not hungry. Sam, take my tool bag. You'll find a pair of bolt cutters in there. Would you hand them to your brother please and give me the bag back? And, please try to remember I have a gun at your brother's head."

Phillips held out a small tool bag to Sam that he'd had slung over his shoulder. Sam duly took it and opened it, scanning the contents whilst making a play of rummaging around for the bolt cutters. Other than the cutters, Phillips didn't seem to be carrying much. Sam spotted a pair of gloves, a small box of spare bullets, what looked to be a whiskey flask, wallet, sunglasses, a couple of cleaning cloths and, more worryingly, a pair of police issue handcuffs and a short dagger with a black blade. He put the bolt cutters into Phillips' outstretched hand and watched as Phillips handed them to Dean.

"Do the honours, will you?"

For a fleeting second, Dean wondered about his chances of using the heavy cutters to hit Phillips over the head? He stored away the happy thought of cracking Philips' head open with them and, instead, got to work on the chain holding the gates closed. As soon as the chain was removed, Phillips took the heavy chain from Dean, along with the cutters, and dropped both into his tool bag.

"Right my friends, in we go. Sam? If you wouldn't mind? Back to walking in front of us please."

-o-

As soon as the three entered the park and walked in the direction Phillips kept pushing Dean, Phillips began constantly visually scanning the area, as if expecting to see someone, or something. Distracted as he was, he didn't notice Sam dropping behind, a little at a time.

-o-

Phillips walked the Hunters through the children's playground area towards a narrow strip of trees, following a short path leading through them and onto a an old ornamental stone bridge over moving water that was too wide to be called a stream, but neither wide or deep enough to quite make it as a river. Sam had noted the bridge itself when looking at a map of the local area and taking note of places or areas with Fey linked names, this bridge he knew was locally called Boggart's Bridge. Once over the bridge, Phillips began leading Sam and Dean through a much larger and formally landscaped section of parkland that proved big enough to accommodate an eighteen hole municipal golf course and a fishing lake within it's boundaries. There were no nearby residential houses over looking the parkland that Dean could see and, internally, he approved of Phillips' choice, it was what Sam and he were looking to find.

"Hold it there Dean please. We'll shortly be meeting up with some friends of mine here, they're especially keen to meet _you_. Sam? Now how did you get...

**-o-o-o-**


	23. Chapter 23

Action stations...

**C23**

-o-o-o-

Phillips' words were lost under the bone chilling howl that rolled across the open ground and surrounded the three men, setting both Sam and Dean's teeth on edge. Phillips' eyes were everywhere, checking the area. As the howl died away, he called out.

"Show yourself. Show yourself to your loyal Betrayer."

Risking a glance over his shoulder to where Sam was standing a few yards away, Dean mouthed _Oxymoron_. Sam grinned, looking calmer than he actually felt as he silently mouthed his reply _Moron_, _definitely!_

"Show yourself to me, you whom I now name..._Black Annis_!"

At the sound of the name that the Betrayer gave to the source of the howl, both Sam and Dean tensed.

-o-

"_HUNNGREEEEEE_!"

The wild haired, gnarled, twisted and blue skinned Hag that was Black Annis materialised on all fours in front of Sam. One clawing hand covered in tissue-paper thin flesh reached forward with the speed of a rattle snake and Black Annis' slime and mud coated fingers latched around Sam's ankle, gripping it so tightly Sam was sure the Hag must have cut off the circulation to his foot. Sam tried unsuccessfully to wrench himself free of Black Annis' hold. In answer, the Hag used her grip around Sam's ankle to haul herself closer to him and with her free hand she latched onto the calf of his other leg, piercing through denim and into flesh. Leering up at Sam, the Hag opened her mouth wide, revealing unnaturally sharp and irrevocably discoloured teeth. Yellow green saliva oozed from both corners of the creature's mouth and hung off it's chin like rubbery stalactites. They stretched and grew longer as more drool slid down the length of the two trembling boot laces of spittle.

"Havvvvve this one, me."

Ignoring the fact that there was still a gun aimed at him, Dean snarled in Phillips' face.

"_Call that thing __**off**__ him_...**_Do it_**_!"_

Sam wasn't going to wait around to see whether the Betrayer would comply, instead, he shoved a hand into one of the pockets on his jacket.

-o-

What had been a howl that was grounded in hunger, was this time a spitting, writhing scream of all encompassing terror and pain. The Hag released her hold on Sam and threw herself away from him. Rolling around on the ground in her agony, her cries became guttural as she clawed and tore at her own blood sodden face, switching between pure noise and begging Sam to _take it away, take it away._ The Betrayer was torn between his captive, and his duty bond to the tortured Un-sidhe Hag.

-o-

Phillips grabbed hold of Dean's upper arm, and with the gun now jabbing him in his ribs, Dean was pushed and shoved across to the stuttering and screeching Hag. Sam looked as though he was caught in a trance; unmoving, he stared in morbid fascination at the horrifying impact one rusty iron nail thrust into one eye had on the blue skinned Hag. Phillips was attempting to shout above the Hags continuing wails, desperately trying to calm her.

"_I'm here lady, I'm here. Don't worry lady, I'll help you_!"

Dean joined in, putting on a falsetto sing-song voice.

"Mummy's coming little hag, mummy's on her way!"

Phillips hauled Dean along with him as he strode across to Sam and began waving his gun in front of Sam's face and all but screaming at him.

"_What did you __**do**_? _Tell m _...

-o-

Sam's expression didn't change as, with cold precision, his right fist connected solidly under the Betrayer's jaw. Having predicted what his brother was going to do, Dean had already swiftly positioned himself and was standing behind Phillips, both arms held out ready to catch the man and stop him going all the way to the ground, as the Betrayer silently toppled backwards like a felled tree, his eyes already closed. Dean began to lower Phillips slowly to the ground, then paused and looked down at the unconscious man.

"Ah, the Hell with it."

Abruptly, Dean let go, smirking when Philips hit the ground solidly enough to cause the man's head to bounce and hit it a second time. Dean bent and retrieved Phillips' gun from where it had dropped. Stepping over the prone form, Dean put his mouth close to his brother's ear.

"Any ideas on how we shut the blue bird up?"

-o-

Black Annis was still thrashing around, though her cries were becoming pained croak's of _Burns, burns, burns._ Sam knelt down by the terrified Hag and glanced up at Dean.

"If she tries anythin'? Shove a nail in her other eye."

Dean nodded and stood ready to do just that if needs-be. Sam wrapped one hand around the Hag's scrawny throat, cutting off her sobs and cries of pain and, at the same time, holding her head in place. One crazed eye stared up at the Hunter.

"Poor Black Annis? Let Black Annis go? _Sweet, sweet boy_. Poor Black Annis."

Sam's words came out in a growl.

"Give me your word you'll leave, and I'll take the burn away. Do you understand me, old Hag?"

The one wide open and fear-filled eye stared up at Sam. The thin and ragged creature managed to nod.

"Black Annis yes _go_. _Please_? _Kind _Human, take pain now. Black Annis go. Yes?"

-o-

Turning his head away and grimacing, Sam stuck a finger into the gloopy, jello textured slop that was Black Annis' partially collapsed eyeball. Whilst the Hag howled, Sam located the head of the iron nail which he had earlier slammed into the creatures eye, and pulled it out. Seeing the slimy strands of ichor hanging off the bloody nail, Sam held it away from his body whilst he cast around, trying to figure out what to do with it. With a hand again covering and hiding her damaged eye, Black Annis half shuffled, half slid herself along the ground, putting a greater distance between herself and these humans _Hunters?_ Dean turned his attention back to the Betrayer who had begun to show some signs of movement whilst Sam glared at Black Annis. He strode towards her and very intentionally towered right over her. Black Annis flinched. Holding the nail for her to see, Sam scowled down at the creature curled up at his feet.

"Black Annis. Keep your word and go, or I _will_ ram this into you're other eye. _Go_! Get out of my sight!"

Black Annis again put herself on all fours, and from there, struggled onto her feet. Her mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile as she glanced across at Dean and the Betrayer, and then brought her focus back to Sam.

"Black Annis keep word. Black Annis go...Go tell Master! Tell Master what you do to Black Annis, tell Master what you do to Master's bond human. You get big trouble come now Hunter..._ Big_ trouble ..."

The Un-sidhe fey's words drifted on the night air, fading out in sync with her physical form.

-o-

"I don't think she liked you somehow Sammy. Here. Wrap that scanky thing in this."

Sam took the piece of silky material Dean offered him and dropped the glooped up nail into it.

"Thanks. Where'd this come from?"

"It's just the lining from out one of the fey's bitch Phillips' jacket pocket. Surprise, surprise, his pocket was full of nails. Here. Extra's. I thought he was supposed to be all pally pally with the Un-sidhe? So I can't figure _why _he'd feel he needed to carry iron nails."

Wrapping the thin cloth tightly around the sticky nail, Sam shrugged.

"Maybe being a Betrayer doesn't come with so much job security?"

Once wrapped, Sam stuck the strange souvenir into a back pocket in his jeans. Dean curled his top lip.

"Gross."

A moan caught Dean's attention and he walked back to where he had left Phillips laid out, with his hands firmly cuffed. Dean nudged the Betrayer non too gently in the ribs with his foot.

"Get up! On your feet, _asswipe_."

Sam manoeuvred the strap of the duffle bag containing their supplies carefully down one shoulder, before slipping out of the second strap. Dropping the bag to the floor, Sam knelt by it and began turning it out whilst Dean remained standing close by, training the Betrayers own gun on Phillips and watching coldly as the man, still feeling somewhat dizzy, fought to get to his feet; finally succeeding on his third attempt.

-o-

Once he was fully upright again, Phillips spent a little time straightening his jacket and brushing his trouser legs clean of the odd blade of grass that was clinging to them. He glanced down at Sam.

"You pack a Helluva punch there pal. Of course, you _did_ have the advantage of catching me by surprise, but even so..."

"You can stop blabbing any time you like Phillips, there's no one here that's your pal. Only words we want to hear out of you are the ones that're gonna bring Pukey out of his fairy cave and here to us, holding a healthy human baby ready to hand over."

As Dean spoke, a vial stench began to gradually clog up the air around the three men.

"Sam?"

Sam stood upright, fixing Dean with a glare.

"It's not _me_!"

"You sure about that?"

"Yes! I'm _absolutely_ sure Dean!"

Dean turned back to the now smirking Betrayer and raised the gun a fraction, just enough to remind the Betrayer of it's presence.

"Care to explain?"

"Don't really need to, you can see for yourselves."

-o-

The Betrayer inclined his head to a spot behind Dean, over his shoulder. Dean, however, maintained his watch on the man.

"Sammy? What've we got?"

Sam moved closer to Dean and stared into the darkness, which appeared to have been spilt in half just above ground level by a wide serpentine band of thick luminous green mist. A mist which was making it's way across the open grassed area and closer to the three men.

"Um, Dean?"

**-o-o-o-**


	24. Chapter 24

**C24**

-o-o-o-

Having shifted his position to stand at the side of the Betrayer, Dean dug the gun into Phillips' ribs.

"Ok Phillips...What the Hell _is_ that?"

Sam set to work before Phillips answered. Quickly grabbing the vacuum flask he had unpacked out of the kit bag, he busied himself laying down a circle of mixed salt and sugar. For good measure he scattered a handful of the iron nails taken from Phillips randomly on top of the white outline. Phillips himself had a look that spoke of confusion as he answered Dean.

"I _would _say it's a message, but I've never seen one this, er..._Long_?"

Sam glanced anxiously at Dean who, in response, pulled Phillips as close to himself as he could and stared hard into the man's face, wanting to leave Phillips in no doubt of the seriousness of his words.

"I see or feel one _twitch_ out of you that makes me think you're about to do anything as dumb as trying to break this circle, the very next twitch will be my finger on this trigger. I will _not_ hesitate. Got that?"

Phillips knew a promise when he heard one, he had no doubt that Dean would follow through on it. Phillips felt a flash of anger, both at the two Hunters, in particular Dean, and at himself for having lost control of the situation so quickly. He bit back.

"And wouldn't that be ironic? You shooting me with the same gun that killed your friend, the Maiden?"

-o-

The Betrayer couldn't help but be impressed at how calmly Dean took the news, showing only one small reaction. The Hunter actually smiled at him. The Betrayer found himself feeling both deflated and irritated by the lack of impact his words had on Dean. Maybe he had been mistaken in thinking the woman's murder would mean anything at all to the brothers? Of course, what Phillips didn't realise about the calm that met his words, was that he had actually placed himself within the metaphorical, very deceivingly peaceful, centre of a _very_ powerful cyclone.

-o-

Phillips had no inkling at all of how short the rest of his life had suddenly become. Sam, however, recognised the smile that Dean had given the man, and it chilled him slightly to know that Phillips had just turned into nothing more than a dead man walking. Sam turned away. He watched as the band of green mist closed in on them, relieved when it stopped moving just before hitting the outer edge of the protected circle. He could swear that the undulating, foul smelling, snake like, luminescent line was taking a moment to consider the barrier, before it started to move again.

-o-

All three men tried not to breathe through their nose as they watched the strange formation change direction. Keeping Phillips between them, Dean instantly recognised the apparent intent behind the mist's movement.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Sam had.

"It's surrounding the circle."

"You think if we threw it the douche here, it would grab him and creep away?"

Dean's tone was only half joking, and Phillips' concern heightened when Sam appeared to be giving the suggestion some serious consideration. The Betrayer consciously had to work at maintaining an air of calm.

"I'd really rather you didn't."

Dean was immediately curious, the Betrayer sounded nervous. As the luminous mist finally formed a secondary ring around the salt and sugar circle, he glanced at Phillips.

"Sounding a little jittery there. I thought you were supposed to be a Big Bad Betrayer? The Un-sidhe Sneak? A fairy's best bud? Why so nervous?"

Sam intervened, cutting off what answer Phillips may have given.

"Quiet. Listen."

A very low humming sound, rather like the drone of honey bees around a flowering shrub, was being emitted from the green ring. The sound began to grow louder and, at the same time, the fluorescent green flared brighter, quickly reaching the point of being too bright to look at properly, and then it blinked out. The three men struggled initially to see anything at all in the dark past the red tinted silhouette of the of the mist's final flare, but they could all hear the scratching sounds.

"You got a torch there Sammy?"

Turning on his torch, Sam swept the beam around the outside of the salt circle. The Betrayer gave an odd, choking kind of cough when, in the light of the torch, the three of them saw that they were now effectively surrounded by a circle of the biggest, angriest looking spiders that Dean had ever seen. Sam groaned.

"No way I'm gonna be able to get _that_ lot off my boots!"

-o-

For a few minutes, the Winchesters and the circle of twitching, bristling spiders stared at each other, although the Betrayer, standing rigid and tense, was clearly trying to avoid looking at the creatures at all.

"Well. As far as Mexican standoff's go, this one's _gotta_ be one of the weirdest."

Sam smirked at his brother.

"Dean, have you _any_ idea how long a spider can last without food or water?"

Dean looked incredulous.

"Oh c'mon dude. You don't seriously think that's the plan do you? Starve us out? No way! ... I'm startin' to feel like a Goddamn housefly ... So, what's the worst they could do anyway? I mean if we just wander over there casually and start a squish-fest?"

"Spider's _do_ bite Dean. What about the Black Widow?"

"Oh...Yeah."

-o-

Neither Hunter acknowledged the soft, whimper like noise made by Phillips. Feeling pretty confident that Phillips wouldn't try anything dumb right now, Dean left him standing next to Sam whilst he moved to the edge of the salt circle. There was an instant reaction from their arachnid audience. They all began to stir, seeming to become more agitated, those that were directly facing Dean bared their fangs, rearing up into attack mode, the hair on their dinner plate sized black bodies standing out like bristles on a yard brush. Dean stood on one leg, raising the other, he waggled the underside of his boot at them in reply, triggering a clicking, ticking sound that rapidly spread throughout all the creatures.

"I don't think they liked that Dean."

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"I think... Whoa. Sammy? Something's goin' off."

Dean rounded on the pale looking Betrayer.

"What's happening? Why're they startin' to glow like that?"

Phillips glared accusingly back at Dean.

"Because you just screwed up _Winchester..._Big time!"

-o-

Sam watched uneasily as the hoard skittered and moved away from the protected circle, instead beginning to congregate closely together, their increasing glow merging as their legs and bodies tangled and converged, forming a growing clump. Sam didn't take his eyes off the increasing pile of eight legged creatures.

"Phillips? When you say _Big time..._?"

-o-

Dean stared as he backed slowly away from the edge of the salt circle.

"You have _got _to be kiddin me! Look at the _size _of that damn thing!"

Head down, concentrating on gearing himself up, Sam's reply was hastily muttered.

"Nightmares _forever_ now."

The Betrayer's sudden movement was a blur in Sam's peripheral vision and by the time Sam turned, Dean had already been strong-armed from behind and out of the circle, scattering both salt, sugar and nails, with Phillips still at his back. The unexpected momentum hurled Dean forward, and into the shadow of the super-sized arachnid.

**-o-o-o-**


	25. Chapter 25

**C25**

-o-o-o-

Dean instinctively dropped to his knees, curling up to make himself a smaller target, he froze and rapidly took stock. Phillips, standing out in the open as he was, did Dean an unintentional favour by attempting to establish his credentials with the creature, drawing it's attention onto himself. Despite his terror, Phillips stood himself in the creatures direct line of sight. Raising both arms, he called out to the monstrous arachnid..

"_Hear me Messenger_, I stand before you as one of the Brethren of Betrayers_, I am_ _your__**rrrrrrr**_..."

The thing moved almost quicker than Sam's brain was able to process. Darting forward, it had the hapless Betrayer knocked to the ground with a flick of one long leg, another jolt of movement and suddenly it was squatting over the screaming man. A further snatch of it's head, and Phillips' screams were cut short. As the spider withdrew, Sam was horrified to see that Phillips no longer had a face. Looking to the spider, Sam saw a slender trail of luminescent venom drip from one blood coated fang. All eight legs emerging from the thing's cephalothorax were synchronised perfectly as the creature turned itself through 180 degrees, almost on the spot. Sam's heart rate increased with the knowledge that this foul arachnid, which would most _certainly_ haunt his nightmares yet to come, was now intent on finding his brother.

-o-

Up close and personal, the super spider had a stink that instantly transmuted in Dean's imagination into a musty and moulding length of fur coats, hung and crammed tightly together inside an equally ancient and musty old wardrobe. He had curled himself up almost in a ball with a matter of inches between himself and one of the legs which formed the thing's second pair. Given that the creature wasn't currently gnawing on his skull, Dean figured he must be below the spider's line of sight. A swift glance told him that the thing was in a classic spider pose of it's legs bent at the knees, it's underside cephalothorax and it's abdomen suspended off the ground. Dean guessed the gap between the two sections of the spider's body and the ground was just a fraction more than twelve inches. It would have to do. Dispersing the mental image of the thing using him as a way of taking revenge on all humankind by squishing _him_, instead of the other way around, Dean flattened himself to the ground and began hurriedly hauling himself along underneath the spider by his elbows, whilst still clutching the gun he'd taken from Phillips.

-o-

He heard Phillips attempting to instigate some kind of dialogue with the fey creature by introducing himself to it. Wriggling rapidly beneath the spider bridge, Dean fixed his mind to the task, feeling no urge to turn around and go to the Betrayer's aid. Dean was caught by surprise when the world above him shifted, suddenly becoming the night sky, and within a heartbeat of time, the Betrayer's words had turned to a guttural noise that was swiftly hushed.

-o-

Dean was out of time, trying to run was a no go, he had to fight. He rolled onto his back and lifted his upper body into a half way sit-up. Grasping the gun in one hand, he grabbed his own wrist with the other hand to keep his aim steady. The arachnid had moved at the same time, it's long legs bent at 45 degrees at the knees, extending down to pointed hairy feet that made it appear to be on tip-toe whilst it scuttled around, finally spotting the Hunter.

-o-

Sometimes, events can move so fast that they seem to slow right down, microscopic details are noted and recalled later, all actions and reactions suddenly feel as though they take an age to perform. The seconds began to stretch into minutes for Dean. He heard the sound of someone shouting, but they spoke so slowly he couldn't make out the words. He watched as the super spider settled, lowering it's belly until it hovered just above the ground, he saw muscles flex along the upper half of the creatures legs, and it's head appear to split apart as it opened it's jaws. A droplet of venom could be seen already forming at the end of each of the vicious looking fangs. The creature appeared to tense momentarily, then with the strength of all it's eight legs, it pushed itself forward and up, launching itself into the air and arking straight for Dean. The Hunter's finger squeezed the trigger of the gun one, two, three times.

-o-

Every leg of the monstrous spider suddenly straightened out from it's body when the first of the bullets hit it in it's soft undercarriage whilst it was still in flight. The creature hissed and spit. Dean had time to note the thick blue liquid which swiftly began to leak out of the creature, staining the pale fur on the underside of it's abdomen. before the spider belly flopped, mostly on the ground. The breath left Dean's body and the gun flew out of his grasp as he was knocked flat by the impact of the end section of the spider's abdomen landing on him, pinning him from the chest down, including both his arms. Panic flared. Dean was completely helpless, and trapped under a foul smelling giant spider sized duvet.

-o-

Not dead but clearly in pain, at it's front section the spider's legs were chaotically thrashing in different directions, raking, scratching and drumming against the grassed earth, each reverberation echoing back and over Dean. Despite the added discomfort of the spider's jarring movements, it was those same movements that did, at least, create the opportunity for Dean to force his body to turn slightly onto one side. The action serving to relieve the crushing pressure that had lodged over his lungs, giving Dean the gift of having the ability to draw in shallow breaths of air. Air that was made thick and warm by the creature's powerful pungency. Needing to devote his energies and concentration on those hard won small amounts of life giving 02, Dean didn't have the capacity to worry about, or to attempt, much else.

-o-

Sam had begun shouting and waving both arms in the hope of drawing the super spider's attention back in his direction and, at the same time, he leaned down reaching for the pistol crossbow. Flipping open the tin of crossbow bolts, he grabbed four. Palming three bolts, he swiftly slotted the third in place on the bow whilst straightening up. Sam was in time to see the arachnid leap and take to the air, and the shape of his brother laying on the ground. Three shots were fired off in quick succession from Dean's position before the arachnid slammed down in a crash landing, the way it's body reacted signalling a hit. Sam raced across the grass towards the creature. Avoiding the still wildly scrabbling legs, Sam slid to a halt. Turning to face the creature head on, he raised the crossbow, swiftly pushing aside the fact that he couldn't see his brother, knowing the priority at that moment was to finish the thing.

-o-

Any other time, a head shot between the eyes needed a steady aim, but it was simple enough. Having eight eyes to choose from was a little disconcerting, especially when all eight were staring at Sam in burning fury and a clear recognition of your intent. As Sam took aim at the centre of the monstrous head, the creature desperately tried dragging itself towards Sam using it's front pair of legs. As it managed to pull it's great body a couple of feet closer, Sam thought he heard a brief cry underlying the creature's loud whistling and hissing sounds of rage. Sam took the shot.

-o-

The effect of the iron tipped bolt lodging itself in the things head was instantaneous as the hissing turned into a high pitched cry of agony and hate. Jaws gaping, the spider thrashed it's head from side to side as if trying to dislodge the cause of it's fiery pain. It tore down it's own face with it's front legs. Heart pounding at the sight of the creatures agonised reaction, Sam quickly followed up with a second bolt, aiming directly into the gaping maw. The creature's cries abruptly ceased and it's great head lowered in fits and starts, finally dropping limply to the ground where bubbling blue blood readily inked from it's mouth.

-o-

The movements in the spider's legs became weak, spasmodic, but were not yet stilled. Sam had killed many times, like most Hunters, but he never took pleasure from a slow kill. It wasn't his nature to enjoy inflicting cruelty. Yes, he wanted the creature dead, but he _didn't_ want it to linger or to suffer. He aimed a third time at the spider's head.

"_Please. Die_,won't you?_ Please?"_

The bolt found it's target and, at the exact moment the bolt managed to firmly drive it's way home, the creature's legs retracted, folding tightly inward, pulled up against it's body as, at last, it was finished.

-o-

Standing in front of the arachnid's corpse, Sam frowned as he glanced around the immediate area. He couldn't see any sign of Dean anywhere. Unwillingly, his eyes returned to the body of the creature, fixing on the area of it's mouth, replaying to himself the ferocious attack on Phillips.

A croaking groan emanating from somewhere behind the spider's corpse brought Sam's head up with a jolt.

"Dean? Is that you?"

"Elp?"

**-o-o-o-**


	26. Chapter 26

**C26**

-o-o-o-

Sam came to a halt and stared. For a moment, he was uncertain how to react to the bizarre sight of Dean's head and shoulders poking out from under the very back end of the super spider. He realised it must have been his brother crying out that he'd heard when the creature had tried to reach him. Dean blinked up at Sam.

"S'it dead? ... Or s'it tryin' to hatch me?"

His weakened voice broke through Sam's initial hesitation.

"What?...Oh. It's dead."

An expression of relief flitted across Dean's face briefly, before being replaced by a worried frown.

"Ge'me out then? ... 'Fore it death poops on me?"

-o-

Dean was on his back, stretched out on the grass and teaching himself how to breathe again. Sam sat next to his brother, clearly wanting to check Dean over. Dean shoved Sam's hand away as soon as Sam reached towards him.

"_Leave it_. I'm fine."

"But..."

"I said, leave it. Ok? Damn thing knocked the breath out of me is all. What happened to Phillips. Did he take off?"

Sam shook his head.

"No. It, the spider, it killed him."

Dean turned his head to Sam.

"That doesn't make sense. The guy was a _Betrayer_, pally with the Pooka and all that."

Sam nodded.

"Supposedly...Maybe the spider thought he looked like he'd be more usefully employed as a snack?"

Dean sat up slowly, holding his breath and wincing as he moved, an action not lost on Sam.

"Well. At least that means no more concern or doubts about the rights and wrongs of killing off a human! Although, I gotta admit, I'd kinda hoped to use him to call old Pukey out. Seems like we're back to good old _bait and wait_."

Out of view, hidden from the brothers' line of sight by the arachnid's corpse, came the sound of a hoof being stamped on grass, followed by a very horse like snort. Dean gave a resigned sigh.

"_Or not_."

-o-

Saying nothing, Sam handed Dean the pistol crossbow. Nodding his head back towards the broken protective circle he mimed the action of fitting a bolt before reaching up to his own shoulder and seeming to grab the air just above it. Dean grinned as Sam's, apparently empty, hands began to move as if he were conducting an imaginary orchestra. Dean raised his own hand clenched into a fist. Looking at one another, Dean uncurled one finger, then another. On the third finger count, Dean began to move, followed less than a fraction of a second later by Sam.

-o-

Like an on-coming, fast rolling, black boulder, the Pooka in it's horse form avalanched through the middle of Dean and Sam, driving them apart, hurling both Hunter's in different directions and down to the ground with the impact of it's broad chest. Dean rolled and tumbled over a few times, hearing a sharp crack before coming to a stunned halt. Sam landed on his back, his head thudding against the ground, sending his vision briefly out of sync and knocking the wind out of his lungs. The huge black stallion didn't pause, turning on the head of a pin, it charged again. With nostrils flared wide, long blue black mane and tail streaming behind it, it's pure white glowering eyes, here was the image of a living night mare, and it was aiming straight for Sam.

-o-

Raising his head from the ground, Dean saw the Pooka complete an impossibly sharp turn and head towards his brother. Dean cried out a warning and saw Sam roll onto his hands and knees. Dean lost sight of his brother when the Pooka briefly blocked him from view. The thing half reared, then galloped on, past where Sam had been trying to stand, and where he was now laying motionless, face down on the grass. Dean swore and began to raise himself up, stopping abruptly when a searing pain tore across his chest on the right hand side. A swift glance down revealed the cause. The pistol crossbow lay broken on the ground beneath him, the limb separated from the stock and snapped in two. A tear in Dean's tee showed the bleeding scratch across his chest made by one of the broken ends of the limb as Dean had rolled over it. Although a good four inches long, the gash wasn't deep enough to cause Dean any worry. The loss of the pistol crossbow however was a definite inconvenience. The sound of on-coming galloping hooves helped shift Dean's gaze away from the broken bow.

-o-

Sam groaned and blinked his eyes open. The pounding in his head came as no great surprise, neither did the sticky sensation of blood running down one side of his face from the point where the Pooka's hoof had made contact and knocked him silly for a brief while. Sam knew that he didn't have the luxury of taking time to rest and recover fully, aware that the Pooka would be going after Dean next. Sam pushed himself up onto his knees, swallowing the feeling of nausea that washed over him. It was only then that he realised the Queen's rope was no longer in his hands. _Shit! _A swift pat down of the area came up with nothing. Kneeling up and trying to quell his sudden panic, Sam remembered the Hag Stones back at the circle. Used to reveal a witch by showing their true form and supposedly able to render their magical powers useless, Sam figured it _had_ to be worth a shot to see if it could show the fey rope. The alternative was continuing to crawl around on hands and knees whilst hoping Dean could hold out against the Pooka, or even finish the damn thing altogether using the crossbow. Assuming he reached the bolts..._Shit! Dean!_

-o-

Dean quickly got to his feet and faced the advancing Pooka, relaxing his stance ready to move to one side or the other, like a brave matador facing the pre-wounded and crazed bull; except of course that the Pooka had no pre-inflicted wounds and neither was it crazy with terror. Even worse than that, as the Pooka closed the distance between itself and the Hunter, Dean was caught off guard when the Pooka's form changed faster than a blink and he found himself enclosed within the tight embrace of a huge dark furred bear, it's salivating jaws heading down towards his left shoulder.

-o-

Sam heard the awful sound of Dean's stomach churning cry of pain. Turning, it took a couple of seconds for Sam to fully register what his eyes were seeing, but the sight of Dean in the jaws of a massive bear burnt it's way into his brain, gaily adding itself to the growing stockpile of images ready to haunt Sam's nightmares. Sam no longer had a choice. As fast as he was, he knew that it would take him far more time than he'd got to reach the salt and sugar circle, grab a Hag stone and return to his current spot; especially given that he had no way of knowing whether the stone would work or not. Decisively, Sam threw himself back down on all fours and began to quickly crawl over the ground, feeling around with both his hands _and_ his feet; motivated in his desperate search by the sounds of his brother fighting for his life.

**-o-o-o-**

**:D**


	27. Chapter 27

**C27**

-o-o-o-

Dean was doing everything he could against the much greater power and weight of the Pooka bear. He landed punch after punch around the creature's head and face to little effect. Ramming his knee into the bear's gut served only to make the animal bite down harder on Dean's shoulder. Dean changed tactics. Using the same technique as he would if it was a dog that had it's teeth locked into him, Dean shoved his shoulder further back into the bear's jaws instead of trying to pull away, and for a blessed moment he felt the creature's jaws widen in response to the pressure against it's jawbone. Dean shoved harder, his growl of determination mimicking the bear's as he asserted an even greater amount of strength into the manoeuvre, compelling the creature's jaw to widen even further and causing the bear to involuntarily pull it's head back in order to avoid the possibility of suffering a dislocated jaw. Dean immediately began to push home his advantage, readying himself to finally snatch his shoulder free of the enraged animal.

-o-

"Come_**on**_! Where the_ Frigg _are you? You _shitty_ piece of _shitty_ fey _shitty _rope! Where..the Hell.._are _you?"

Sam's levels of frustration had reached an all time high and he thumped the ground with both fists.

"This' freakin _hopeless_! ... **_Screw_****_it_**!"

Sam was through searching, he'd had enough, he had to help Dean. He pushed himself back up onto his knees, instantly raising one knee back up off the ground feeling something uncomfortable beneath it. He glanced down, expecting to see a twig or similar. In fact, he couldn't see anything, just an area of flattened grass. _Nothing. Wait...there's nothing there! All that searching then I go and kneel on the damn thing? Really? _Sam's frustration drained away as soon as he closed his palm around the familiar warmth of the rope gifted by the sidhe Queen. _C'mere you shitty..._! Not about to waste any more time, Sam grabbed tight hold of the rope and hauled himself back onto his feet. Nervously, he turned to see how Dean was faring.

-o-

Sam's eyes opened wide when he saw Dean, apparently having gained the upper hand in his battle with the Pooka bear. Without further hesitation, Sam began racing towards his brother, seeing Dean make a sudden movement that freed him from the bear's bite. He watched the bear unwrap it's arms from around his brother, and Dean immediately started backing away from the creature. He noticed his brother stumble. He stared as the bear move forward on it's hind legs much quicker than it should. He watched it hit out at Dean with a powerful swipe of it's over-sized paw, the blow potent enough to send his brother airborne before he hit the ground, and he saw that Dean didn't move away as the huge bear, now on all fours, stalked towards him.

"NO!"

-o-

The bear swung it's enormous head around, white eyes watched as Sam drew nearer. The creature flicked it's head as a low rumbling growl began deep in it's throat, building in volume and intensity, until it started to sound more like a roar to Sam's ears and he drew to a standstill less than half a dozen yards from the animal. Keeping his own gaze firmly fixed on the bear, Sam began to very slowly move sideways, his intent being to get as close to the damaged circle as he could without provoking an attack. Dean remained on the ground with the bear planted firmly between Sam and his brother. The creature opened it's mouth and the beginnings of another roaring growl began to build, changing without warning and, to Sam's consternation, becoming a hyena like chuckle.

-o-

For the first time, Sam found himself face to face with the Pooka's true form, recognising it instantly from the description Dean had provided from his first encounter. Relief at the bear's disappearance drove Sam's words.

"I gotta say, my brother was spot on when he described how you had those _ridiculously_ skinny little legs and a head like a melon. Also, what's with the stripy towelling continence briefs? _Really_ not doin' yourself any fashion favours _there_ dude."

Behind the Pooka, Sam saw Dean begin to move.

-o-

Opening his eyes, Dean's shoulder hurt like Hell and he wondered how many more times he was going to eat grass before the night was over? His next thought ran along the lines of _why aren't I dead?_ As his awareness grew, he realised that he could hear Sam talking, although why he was yakking about continence briefs with a bear was a mystery. Dean began to hesitantly turn himself onto his back.

-o-

Not wanting the Pooka to be alerted to Dean's movements, Sam worked to keep the Un-sidhe creature's attention on himself whilst at the same trying not to dwell on the fact that he was relying on high tech equipment, such as his best pair of inside-out socks, to protect him from any spells the Pooka may decide to launch at him. Sam risked taking a step closer to the Pooka and earned himself a snarl of displeasure. Sam quickly held out both hands, showing his empty palms to the creature.

"No weapons, see? All we want is the baby you stole. Give him to us, and we'll go away. Understand?"

It's mouth open, the Pooka began making a rasping, hacking sound. Sam stretched to his full height, his eyes narrowed as he looked down on the creature standing in front of him.

"Good to know you think it's funny, Shorty. Means I'll enjoy killing you more, you little dung beetle."

The Pooka's laughter stopped immediately.

-o-

Having succeeded in rolling himself over, Dean now stared up at his brother in alarm. _What does Sam think he's doing? Why_ _the Hell is he goading that thing?_

"What's wrong Shorty? Not feeling like laughing anymore?"

Never taking his eye's off the Pooka's back, Dean used his good arm to push himself up to his knees. All Sam could do was hope that the various protections would prove their worth, as the strange white eyes of the Pooka stared straight at him and, at the same time, it raised one hand and began to unfurl one long finger.

-o-

Even as Dean struggled to move from kneeling to standing, he was already trying to drag the Pooka's attention back onto him and away from Sam.

"_Oi_! _Pukey_! _You an' me got unfinished business_. Also? Some solid advice for you...Turning your back on me? _Never_ a good idea."

**-o-o-o-  
**_Uh oh! ;p_


	28. Chapter 28

**C28**

-o-o-o-

Standing with one Hunter to the front, and another one at his back, the Pooka hesitated, that moment of indecision acting as Dean's signal to move. Keeping low and with no concern for his shoulder, Dean steamrollered into the Un-sidhe fey, grabbing hold of it around it's torso and taking them both to the ground in a tangled mass. The feel of the thing's skin was disgustingly clammy and almost sponge like, making the Pooka hard to hold onto tightly, especially given that the Un-sidhe was squealing, thrashing around, wriggling and squirming, managing to turn within Dean's grasp and snarling down at Dean. It's bare feet repeatedly kicked at Dean's shins whilst long, claw nailed fingers slipped and scrabbled, trying to wrap themselves around Dean's throat. The weird thought crossed Dean's mind that trying to keep a grip on the frantically resistive and ickily damp skinned Pooka was probably not too dissimilar to wrestling with a plump, wet, sea lion; except that sea lion's were cute.

-o-

Dean moved his head quickly to one side, narrowly managing to avoid the thing's apparent attempt to bite his nose off.

"_Whenever you like Sam_!"

Already by their side, Sam stood with both hands held out at the ready, trying to time his move whilst the Pooka and Dean, still clutching the furious fey determinedly to his chest, tumbled and twisted from side to side as the Pooka again snapped it's teeth inches away from Dean's face. Before Sam could act, the Pooka finally managed to squirm itself up Dean's body far enough to be able to latch onto Dean's throat with both hands. Dean couldn't stop the creature without releasing his hold around the Pooka's body. His eyes met Sam's, their message loud and clear. _Get on and lasso the damn thing will you?_

-o-

With his brother unable to breath and his eyes rapidly beginning to glaze over, there was only one thing Sam could think of doing in order to more or less ensure he could successfully loop the lasso over the creature's head and around it's neck. He physically threw himself into the fray.

-o-

Dean's eyes suddenly opened wide when the full weight of his not so little brother's upper body landed on top of the Pooka's back. Very aware that Dean was now forming the bottom of the pile of bodies, Sam worked quickly, managing to get the lasso over the Pooka's head, pulling it tight the moment he thought he had it encircled around the fey creature's neck.

-o-

Still squeezing the weakening Hunter's throat tightly, the Pooka's _own_ oversized head was jerked back and it gurgled when Sam yanked on the fey rope, pulling the noose tight. The Pooka instantly released it's strangle hold on Dean and instead began to claw at the rope that was around it's own neck, in an attempt to ease the crushing pressure.

-o-

Exactly as the Sidhe fey Queen had stated, the slender golden rope twinkled into view as soon as Sam had it in place and tightened. Dean stayed on his back, gasping and gulping as he filled his lungs and massaged his sore and reddened throat. He glared past the increasingly flailing Pooka and at his puffing and panting brother, croaking out a plea.

"Gerrof me, n' take Pukey with...B'for my freakin' ribs cave in!"

-o-

Sam had some difficulty complying. He had to lift his upper body off the Pooka and Dean without the benefit of hands, both being occupied with clinging onto the golden fey rope, whilst the Pooka fought against both it _and_ Sam's attempts to get it off his brother. The Pooka's struggles grew wilder, it's howls and screeching louder, sounding ever more furious. It's hands determinedly tried grabbing hold of anything it could of Dean, who equally determinedly blocked all the creature's efforts. Sam was clearly winning the tug-o-war, until the weight he was pulling against suddenly wasn't there. With no counter balance to his tugging and straining, Sam unexpectedly shot backwards, ending up flat on his back and wondering what the hell had just happened?

-o-

The golden rope was twitching almost as if Sam had caught a tiddler of a fish on a rod and line. Puzzled, his eyes followed the rope to where it had been looped around the Pooker's neck, and stared. Finally able to sit upright, Dean followed Sam's gaze.

"You have _got_ to be joking! I get the giant bear, and _you_ get...What the Hell _is_ that? Please. Tell me it's not a Tribble?"*****

-o-

Sam considered the creature scampering and straining to break free of it's golden collar. It looked for all the world like a black toupee madly whizzing around in circles.

"I _think_ it's a long haired guinea pig."

Dean frowned.

"They're those rat type things that forgot to collect their tails, aren't they?"

Sam nodded, only half listening whilst he continued watching the animated toupee in fascination.

"I s'pose."

"Well..._One_ of us has to kill it. Who's it ... Um, Sammy? _Stand to_!"

"Ah, crap!"

Sam scrambled to his feet, hyper-alert and winding more rope around his hands in order to give himself a firmer grip as the guinea - toupee stopped struggling, and curled up into a trembling hairy ball.

-o-

There was no whiz, pop, bang or anything other such special effect. Just a harmless guinea pig, then not. Close up and personal, the blue black stallion fixing it's white eyed stare on Sam really was _huge_ and, Sam was acutely aware, it was also very, _very_ pissed off.

"Hey, Dean? I might need a hand **_heeeeeeere _**...!"

"_Sam! Don't let go_!"

-o-

Sam wanted to thank Dean for his inane advice, he really did. But right at that moment he had both feet off the ground and was being dizzyingly swung around at the business end of a rearing horse that was salivating so much it might have had rabies and, even _more_ worryingly to Sam, it was both snorting and growling. Which, he was pretty sure, horses weren't supposed to do! Whichever direction the thing threw it's head, that was the direction Sam helplessly found himself flying in. And then the creature deployed it's primary weapon.

-o-

The first time the flailing hooves of the stallion delivered a double body blow, the shock and the sheer force with which the horse's hooves thudded into Sam's body came close to making him let go of the golden rope, managing to retain his grip purely due to having twisted and wrapped his hands in the rope a number of times. Grunting at each blow, Sam knew he couldn't withstand that kind of punishment for long without suffering serious consequences, but the Pooka seemed intent on continuing to use him as a punch bag. Another couple of blows landed and Sam knew that the next one was guaranteed to make him vomit.

"_Dee_ ... need ... do somethn'... _can't take_ ..."

**-o-o-o-  
*******_The Trouble with Tribbles - Original Star Treck series._


	29. Chapter 29

_Shorter chapter than usual, but really, I couldn't help myself. It had to end where it does..._

**C29**

-o-o-o-

Having delivered his bit of sound advice to his airborne brother, Dean pushed aside his pain and discomfort, _that_ he'd cope with, what he _couldn't_ stand was seeing his little brother in imminent danger or hurt. Dean needed a weapon. Hauling himself upright he turned and set off running, gathering speed, his only thought being to get back to the protective circle, and the equipment that had been abandoned and left on the ground alongside the duffle.

-o-

"Halt and hold there boy child. I wish to look upon you my Thrice Touched human."

Instinct told Dean who it was that had brought him sliding to a halt using the expedient method of materialising directly in his path, both arms held wide. Dean knew, but he didn't care. In fact he couldn't bring himself to give a _damn_. The guy was nothing more than an annoying obsticle and Dean didn't have the time to waste.

"Learn to count pal, it's _twice_ touched; _now move out my freakin' way_!"

-o-

As tall as Dean, the figure was like the night made human. A theatrical, long, midnight blue cloak hung in soft folds around his slender form. Dark skinned and clean shaven with distinctly aquiline features, he was strikingly handsome. His short cropped hair was white and moonlight silver, and his ice blue eyes glittered unnaturally as they bore into Dean. When he didn't respond to Dean's demand, Dean moved instead, meaning to go around the Un-sidhe male. With feline grace, the male side stepped quickly, placing himself in Dean's path once more.

"Oh, believe me _insolent one_, you are most certainly** thrice** touched my pretty. _You_, human, are one of the _most_ rare examples of your kind and, as such, I have decided that you would be an eminently suitable candidate for the vacancy I seem to have...ah...Unexpectedly developed. You will stand fast now and hear me speak, I shall not ask so politely again."

"_Bite me_."

Dean's years of training and his own natural ability combined and came to the fore. To the astonishment of the Un-sidhe Master, he failed to block the determined human a second time. Turning, a small smile played on his lips as he watched Dean race on.

"Oh yes, my boy child. You are indeed an _exceptionally_ rare example of your species!"

-o-

Skidding to a halt by the small array of weapons, Dean rapidly scanned what was available. Seeing Sam's Taurus he grabbed it before picking up the only really effective offensive weapon he could see, his black, iron bladed dagger. As far as Dean was concerned it was a weapon, therefore it was enough. The dagger's weight in his hand reassured Dean that the battle had just been evened up. As an afterthought he snatched up the Hag stones, thrusting them into a front pocket of his jeans. Shaking the vacuum flask he guessed roughly that it was just over half full of the mix of salt and sugar. Holding it in his free hand, Dean glanced back over his shoulder to check how his brother was doing, and was just in time to see the raging, rearing horse kick out at Sam with it's front legs. A familiar mix of anxiety and anger flowed through Dean, swiftly turning into the fiercely protective force that lie constant, just beneath the surface, always ready to flare and burn white hot. Dean spun around, now set on returning to Sam, and saw the stallion kick out again. He was sure he could see Sam's lips moving and, although he couldn't hear his brother's words, the way Sam's head dropped, the way he briefly looked like a dead weight only hanging on solely by the grace of the rope tightening around his hands, it told Dean everything he needed to know and more, further fanning the Hunter's ferocity. His brother was struggling, Sammy needed back up, and no Master of the Un-sidthe Fey dung beetle was going to stop Dean from being there for him. Dean ran ... He ran with adrenaline and love fuelled swiftness, and with a deep rooted intention to do _whatever_ it took to get past the Dark Douche if the fey _dared_ to attempt to stop him again.

-o-

In fact, no-one was there to attempt to delay Dean, or to block the route between him and his goal. Dean spared the fact little consideration, didn't dwell on the why's or the where's, there was only one thing in his sights.

-o-

For a blessed moment, the black stallion had all four hooves on the ground and, briefly, Sam's feet also touched down onto solid earth, allowing him to relieve the pressure on his shoulders, back and hands. All too quickly, Sam's respite came to a jolting end as the Pooka reared up onto it's hind legs again. In his half conscious state, Sam couldn't get his thought processes to function at anything greater than a drunken slug's pace, and he cried out in agony, enduring a further kick to his already battered torso before it at last occurred to him that he should unwind some of the fey rope wrapped around his hands, lengthening the distance between himself and the noose around the Pooka's neck, stopping the creature from being able to dangle him in midair. Sam had the happy realisation that his feet on solid earth would improve his chances of avoiding being repeatedly kicked by the maddened beast. Sam thought maybe he should test his theory?

-o-

The weight of Sam's body had pulled the slender rope tighter and tighter around his hands, cutting off the circulation to the fingers of both hands, leaving them feeling an odd mixture of cold and numb at the same time. As best he could, Sam fought to keep focused and turn his gradually failing concentration towards the task of releasing some of the golden rope from around each hand, having to trust himself not to let go completely.

"Hey! **_My little pony_**! _Fun's over_! It's time for me to **_break_**your ass!"

-o-

The sound of Dean's voice, cocky and cocksure, lifted Sam like nothing else could. Raising his head, he turned to find Dean standing by his side looking at him reassuringly. Dean reached out and took hold of the golden rope above Sam's hands, adding his own strength to his brother's, and together they forced the stallion to lower it's head down towards the ground.

Dean gave Sam an easy smile and a wink.

"Time to let go now, little brother. You did real good."

**-o-o-o-  
**_See? Wrote the line and knew this chapter had reached it's end. :)  
__More soon  
__Chick x_


	30. Chapter 30

_Please see note at end of this chapter xx  
_**C30**

-o-o-o-

Sam wanted so badly to be able to refuse, but the reality was that he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. With a nod and a look that said _Please, be careful_, he allowed the golden rope to pass completely over to Dean, who swapped it for the vacuum flask, and stepped back.

-o-

It's head still being forced so low that the Pooka's view consisted primarily of grass and the Hunters' boots, the stallion fell back on it's other senses along with the transmittal of tiny movements along the fey rope, in order to gauge when the brother's transferred the rope from one to the other, giving the Pooka it's best opportunity to break away.

-o-

Seeing the taller Hunter's boots move out of it's field of vision, first the horse bucked, then it forcefully yanked it's head back, hoping to snatch the rope away before the shorter Hunter was able to secure his grip. Dean however had fully expected the Pooka to try something, and he was ready for it. Moving a fraction faster than the stallion, Dean's did something that the Pooka had simply never envisaged. Dean twisted his wrist in a circular motion three or four times, each turn coiled and looped another section of rope around his hand. At the same time, he reached out with his free hand, quickly and smoothly hooking his fingers under the noose itself. Without pause, he made use of the hold he had on the actual noose when he suddenly lunged, carrying out a leap worthy of a circus acrobat, and landing on target. The shocked Stallion suddenly found itself with a very unwelcome rider on it's back who held on to the noose around it's neck as though it were a short reign.

-o-

Sam hurriedly dodged and moved out of harms way when, as if a short fuse had been lit, the black stallion violently exploded into action. Muscles rippling beneath a coat gleaming in the moonlight, mane and tail furiously whipping the air, it's eyes wild with fey light and frenzy, the beast desperately fought to throw the unwelcome rider off it's back. Sam stared slack jawed, it was like watching a rodeo cowboy on a bucking bronco. Whichever way the horse bucked or reared, Dean's body moved in perfect harmony with the maddened stallion, countering every move the Pooka made in it's increasingly frantic attempts to rid itself of him. Then, with a startling fast change of tactics, the stallion executed a body twisting turn and hurtled off at full gallop. The fey creature seemed to skim over the ground with Dean now sitting forward and low over the animal's neck like a race jockey, still adamantly, defiantly, staying aboard. Sam's heart felt as if it had lodged in his throat when he watched the horse speed away, making straight towards a wooded area of the park and disappearing into the trees with his brother straddling it's broad back. There was nothing Sam could do except wait, and every slowly passing second was an anxiety filled torment.

-o-

Dean had no option except to ride bareback and he made full use of it's benefits, tuning in to the feel of the creatures body, using it to read and interpret the tiny adjustments the stallion made, the shift in the interplay between it's various muscle groups. He was largely able foretell which direction the tornado of a horse was going to twist next, what move it was about to try in it's attempts to shuck him off; and to balance out that move by rapidly shifting his own position. The horse's swift adjustment into a gallop and away from Sam gave Dean no concern at all. Squinting against the wind rush created by the creature's speed, he looked ahead. It wasn't hard to guess what the creatures next move was going to be and he watched as the black outline of the trees seemed to race towards him. Dean tucked himself even lower into the stallion's neck, his cheek resting against it. Twigs and the tips of slender branches whipped stingingly across his face and body, but unless the Pooka was prepared to knock _itself _senseless, it couldn't make use of anything substantial to send Dean tumbling off it's back.

-o-

Beyond the level of mere seething hatred for this outrageous human, the Pooka crashed out the small area of woodland and back onto open grass. The creature spotted the human rider's brother still standing where they had left him and, within the swirls and eddies of it's enraged mind, it's next move thrust it's way to the surface and became clear.

-o-

A broad smile of relief crossed Sam's face when he saw the stallion emerge from the wooded area, the figure of his brother still stubbornly glued to the animal's back. He watched as the creature executed a forty five degree turn then began to head, arrow straight, in his direction.

-o-

Sam's smile faded as he tracked the stallion's progress, and it struck him what a dreadfully vulnerable position he was in right then. Cursing, Sam fought to loosen and open the top of the flask, finally feeling the cap turn. He had no time for finesse, he simply dumped the lot, creating a single arch of sugar and salt on the ground three feet in front of himself. Looking up, the stallion was close enough for him to see the shift in Dean's positioning as realisation hit his brother. Swallowing hard, Sam chose to rely on the timeless fallback position of closing his eyes tightly.

-o-

Exiting the woods, the stallion ran a handful of yards then carried out such a sharp right turn that Dean was pretty sure his stomach had left the building. He felt a change in the creature's speed. Looking ahead Dean saw that they were heading back towards where Sam was still standing. He hoped that meant the creature was tiring at last and would slow the pace pretty soon, enough so that he was safe to finally end this thing. Letting go of the rope looped around the horses neck with one hand, he reached back and curled his fingers around the handle of the iron bladed dagger he had tucked through the belt on his jeans. Now gripping the dagger firmly in his hand, Dean noticed Sam begin to move. The moon highlighted a dull silver object in his brother's hand and Dean saw Sam clumsily, urgently, pouring white powder onto the grass. Dean's already increased heart rate rose to the skies in recognition that the Pooka had no _intention_ of stopping, or slowing; it was knowingly bearing down on Sam. Disregarding the speed at which he was travelling, with a short distance left to cover Dean did the only thing he could. Still on the animal's back, he threw himself forward and reached his arm around and under the Pooka's neck. One swift shove and drag of the iron blade, Dean sliced open the beast's throat.

-o-

Dean hated flying, he always believed the plane, helicopter or whatever airborne mode of transport it might be, was going to fall from the sky. Killing himself and everyone else on board. He had enough time now to confirm to himself that he _also_ hated flying without the relative security of having a plane, helicopter or whatever it might be, encapsulating him. At the last second, Dean tried as best he could to relax his body.

-o-

Sam heard an animalistic scream that suddenly cut off. Immediately opening his eyes he was in time to see the stallion, just feet away, crumple to the ground in a heap as it's legs collapsed beneath it, a waterfall of inky blue blood torrenting down it's chest. There was a final stomach churning choking and gurgling kind of noise, then silence. Rooted to the spot in horror, Sam stared wide eyed as the stallion's corpse shimmered briefly and morphed back into the Pooka's humanoid form, laying sprawled, partially decapitated, in the middle of it's own rapidly congealing pool of blackened blood. His gaze remained fixed on the creature, witnessing the shudder which ran through the Un-sidhe fey's body, and hearing the soft whisper of it's final breath as it escaped out of the Pooka's severed trachea.

-o-

Fearful for his brother, Sam tore his gaze away from the Pooka and visually scanned the ground surrounding it's body. His fear grew, threatening to ring the bell to signal panic when he didn't see Dean himself, nor was he able to pick out any indentations in the grass or any _other_ evidence that his brother had been anywhere near the body of the Pooka.

"Pardon my intrusion, Hunter. May I offer my assistance?"

As hyper-aroused as Sam was, he wasn't able to completely contain his cry of shock at the sudden voice coming from some yards behind him. With an inward cringe of embarrassment, he heard himself squeak as he spun around to face this new potential threat head on.

"I believe this, at my feet, is what you seek?"

**-o-o-o-  
**_Anyone having any kind of comment or thoughts about this fic, I'd be eternally grateful if you could do  
__feedback BEFORE reading the next chapter, (whilst you're hopefully in a fairly good mood) __Chick __x__o !_


	31. Chapter 31

_To everyone about to read C31 : I would like it known that I have moved __to a  
__newly discovered (by myself) deserted island which is not identified on any map!_

**C31  
**-o-o-o-

Sam's hands were already formed into fists, ready to fight as best he could if he needed to, despite cuts and bruises, muscles and tendons that had joined up to form a duet of pain and, of greater concern, the regular thrum of intense cramping pains in his stomach as a result of the Pooka's kick-fest that forced him to have to take small, shallow breaths whenever they arose. He stared at the figure standing a few yards away from him. Were it not for the moon, it would have been hard to tell where the night's dark ended and the silver white haired stranger began. Sam's first instinctive fight response rapidly drained and dispersed when he saw the dark shape that was face down on the ground at the stranger's feet. Replacing his readiness to go down fighting, there arose a combination of unfettered fear and targeted anger. His fear came in response to the stillness of his brother's form. His anger was directed towards the stranger standing over Dean and the dismissive way in which he had dared to refer to Dean.

"He's not a _thing_ you dick. He's my _brother_! I suggest you _remember_ that if, for some reason, you ever feel compelled to refer to him again in front of me. _Is that clear_?...Whoever the Hell you are, _move away from him!"_

The dark skinned stranger appraised Sam silently from head to toe, taking in every detail before meeting Sam's hazel glare with the ice blue of his own.

"Your irritating insolence surely confirms that this one shared your blood. You are certainly as rash and discourteous as _he_ was. Or is your lack of respect and complete disregard for good manners common throughout _all_ the human species these days? Which is it Hunter? I am curious to know."

Sam took a meaningful stride closer to the stranger.

"You'll find yourself on the receiving end of a very practical demonstration of me being discourteous if you carrying on talking like he's not here! _Move it_!"

The stranger took a step to one side, his eyes never leaving Sam as Sam hurried to Dean. Despite the stranger's silence, when Sam past by, he could physically _feel_ the stranger's simmering annoyance towards him creating a static charge in the air around the man that had the hairs on Sam neck and arms tingling. Without the need for an introduction, it occurred to Sam exactly who the staring stranger was. Standing next to Dean's inert form, Sam spared the Un-sidhe fey a disdainful glance before kneeling down by his brother's side.

"You're not _my_ master, _fey. _All _I've _seen of the Un-sidhe are that you're thieves and murderer's. Why would I waste courtesy or respect on you?"

-o-

The Un-sidhe Fey Master's eyes narrowed, but he made no comment. Instead he continued to observe Sam with an expression of mild curiosity. Adamantly ignoring the Master's presence, Sam placed a hand on his brother's back.

"Dean? Dean, it's Sam. Can you hear me bro?...I'm here Dean. You can open your eyes...You're safe now, you hear?"

When there was no immediate reply, Sam continued talking to Dean. He knew from harsh experience that it was the simple sound of his voice that most often guided Dean back, persuading him to re-join the world and open his eyes.

"Ok Dean...I need you to be ready for this. I'm going to roll you over. I'm really sorry if this hurts, but I need to check you over, find out what hurts, alright? Here we go now...Nice and steady."

-o-

It was the way in which, when Sam carefully turned his brother onto his back, Dean's head didn't seem to move properly in relation to the rest of him like it should. There was something about the way it flopped, like it had lost some kind of stabilising mechanism, like some part of the design was flawed, or had broken away. Looking at his brother's relaxed face, Sam frowned. The moonlight seemed to have a kind of bleaching effect on Dean's skin tone, making it appear waxy and unreal somehow. Sam had the sudden feeling that it was deeply, desperately, important that he should keep talking, that he mustn't allow himself to pause for longer than a quick breath, that it was imperative he didn't allow Dean a chance to comment or join in with the conversation, that he needed to completely avoid asking his brother any questions of any kind so as to not put Dean in the position of having to try answering him and, that looking too closely at his brother would automatically lead to some kind of penalty or forfeit that Sam alone would become liable for.

"So, I'm thinking that shirt's going to be heading for the trash. I mean, I'll try, obviously I will. But I really _don't_ think I'll be able to get the stainin' out completely. If you really can't face the idea of binning it though, you could always keep hold of it just for sleeping in. I'll have to get you a new one for wearin' out and, before you say it, yes, you _can _trust me. After all this time I think I pretty much know the kind of styles you like and what colours you feel ok wearing, you don't need to worry about that. I'm not so dumb as to get some pink flowered Hawaiian deal. When you wake up and once you're feelin' up to it, we could probably both do with some new gear anyway, and I might even give you a catwalk show. You're always goin' on about my crappy taste in shirts so I'm offerin' to let you advise me. Oh, and I need to get a new sole put on my boots. I could leave them at one of those while you wait cobblers and pick 'em up again once we're done shoppin'. Know what Dean? I've just thought, it's a real pity you weren't dressed up today like you were when we went back to the Wild West days after the Phoenix. Especially that coat you fell in love with, you poser. I mean, that would've been an amazing sight 'cos I gotta tell you, you looked like a real wild west hero tonight. I mean with the way you leapt ... Leapt up onto ... that ... _Freakin_'... Freak ... Freakin' _nag_. A hero Dean ... You...I'm _so_ proud ... You're _my_ hero Dean ... you've always been ... Ah, _Jeeze_ ... _Dean_, I ... You're ... _Shit_ Dean, _please_ don't. Please? Dean? Just ... Oh crap Dean..."

All the incessant talking in the world couldn't help. It didn't manage to keep the knowing at bay. Sam could keep talking till his voice gave out, it wouldn't defend Sam against the impending hollowness. He could have hidden behind another language, but reality would've sought him out. His outpouring of meaningless talk couldn't stop his heart from breaking, or save him from a time of falling apart; and it wouldn't allow him to constantly race against the truth. His silent audience for now completely forgotten, the grief finally rolled over Sam like a tsunami.

-o-

The Un-sidhe continued to observe in fascination as the remaining brother's voice stuttered, died out, and turned to sobs. He watched with intense interest when the still living brother rested his forehead against the motionless chest of the dead one, and soundlessly continued to weep. The Master felt no shame in remaining there whilst the living mourned the dead, he had never had quite such an opportunity to witness a human's reaction to losing another human that they cared about, and so he stayed, satisfying his curiosity.

-o-

Nearby, the timing making it almost seem as if it understood and shared in the Hunter's pain, a baby began to cry. When after a moment or two there was no reaction or response from Sam, the Master of the Un-sidhe broke his silence.

"Can you not hear that you are being called? Why do you not answer Hunter? Why do you stay here? When _this_ one is clearly finished, but the one you came for now waits for you?"

Sam slowly raised his head and stared up at the Un-sidhe Master. When Sam spoke he sounded tired, drained, empty.

"So, is that all life and death is for you fey? You start, and then you finish? Isn't there any celebration when you're born? Doesn't anyone _at all_ mourn or miss you when you die? I mean, seriously, do you all live the entire stretch of your long lives and never meaning _anything_ to anyone else? Are you all _really_ so unimportant, none of you are even worth any concern from your own kind? 'Cos, you know? If _breathing_ is all you are? How _can_ I have any respect for you, _any _of you? ... Just in case it means anything to you though, I _do_ feel _something_ for you and your kind...I really pity all of you."

Standing up, Sam turned his back on the dark fey Master, and walked away, following the sound of the baby's cries.

**-o-o-o-  
****:(**


	32. Chapter 32

_Staying on my desert island till someone says it's safe to leave :(  
_**C32**

-o-o-o-

The baby boy was lying on the ground within the remains of what had been the protective circle. His crying had quietened into hiccupping sobs, his flushed cheeks were still wet with tears and his little mouth was turned down miserably. He was wrapped in a pale blue fleece blanket. Sam guessed it was the one he had with him in his cot when he was taken. Loosely draped around the cot blanket was a further pure white blanket. Looking closer, Sam saw that it had been finely and delicately hand embroidered around the edges with a complex trailing ivy, the only threads used being black and shades of grey. Quietly, the baby stared up at Sam, seemingly wary of what Sam might do. Carefully Picking up the baby, Sam noticed that the white blanket was made out of the same soft as silk leather as the small grey piece given to him and his brother by the Sidhe Queen. Safe in Sam's strong arms, the baby stayed perfectly still and silent, staring up at Sam with soft brown eyes outlined by long, dark lashes. The boy almost seemed to be waiting. Perhaps uncertain what Sam's intention was.

"Hello Daniel, I'm Sam...Welcome back...You've no idea what it's cost to get you here. You'll never know, but it's one helluva steep price to have had to pay, for both my brother _and_ me.

-o-

Daniel's gaze was following the movements of Sam's lips intensely, watching how they moved as the Hunter spoke words that were meaningless to the baby. Daniel's level of concentration transformed his expression into one of such seriousness that, at any other time, Sam would have found it both comical and adorable and he would've laughed out loud. Instead, he became silent, thoughtful, vengeful. When Sam stopped talking and became quiet Daniel reached out, his chubby little hand trying to touch Sam's lips, as if wanting to see them move again. Sam instinctively lowered his head, nuzzling the baby's hand and then bending to give Daniel's palm a soft kiss. Daniel was delighted, a happy smile revealing a dimple on either cheek. Sam gave the baby a small smile in return.

"I'm gonna take you home soon Daniel. Back to your mummy and daddy. They've _really_ missed you, missed you so damn much little one."

A breeze ruffled Sam's hair and made nearby flowers enthusiastically bob and nod their moon brushed heads, almost as though they were agreeing with Sam's sentiment. Cradling the watching child, from inside his own head, Sam heard his brother's words replayed.

_It's gonna feel good to be able to take little Daniel back home to his parents, where he belongs._

Sam closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath, pushing down the all too readily available tears. Now wasn't the time. There were things he still needed to do, things he _had_ to do, things he didn't want to do, and time was moving on. Shaking his head, Sam, opened his eyes and looked down again at the baby in his arms. Daniel was still quietly and attentively watching Sam, as though wondering and waiting to see what the man would do next. Sam sighed, and gently stroked Daniel's soft, dark hair with his thumb.

"Oh Daniel...I just wish my brother had survived this ... He was there, you know? When you were stolen. My brother heard you crying. He tried to save you then Daniel, when it happened..."

Sam stopped talking again, instead staring up at the moon, fighting to keep calm, not to break down again, not yet. Eventually Sam was able to smile a little more as he returned the baby's persistent steady gaze.

"If my brother...If _Dean_ was here, I know full well that _he'd _be the one holding you right now. Dean, he had this way with kids, they trust, trusted him...I'm pretty sure you would've liked him Daniel."

-o-

"What was that? _Pretty_ sure? C'mon Sammy, admit it, it's _guaranteed_ he'll like me! What's not to like? Right? Now give him up Samantha, it's _my_ turn to say hi_._ You've held him long enough, you're boring him now. He wants to come to his cool Uncle Dean, don't you kid?"

-o-

Sam, having been struck by some kind of acute catatonia which left him bereft of both the power of speech and movement, stared dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. Dean gave up waiting and extracted the baby from Sam's arms himself. With Daniel safely cradled, Dean glanced at Sam, and frowned.

"Sammy, _really_! Shut your mouth before you start catching moths."

Dean switched his focus back on to Daniel, instantly dissolving into a classic _I'm talking to a baby_ voice type

"Tha's _right_, isn't it? Stupid Uncle Sammy'll get' mouth moths, _won't_ he? _Yes_...He _will_..."

-o-

Still functioning on auto-pilot, Sam bent down and scooped up a handful of salt and sugar, throwing it back to the floor directly in front of Dean. Dean's eye's flicked to the white mound at his feet. He directed his comment to little Daniel.

"_Oh_ dear...Uncle Sammy's gone an' lost his _marble's_. _Funny_ Uncle Sammy. _What_ is he? Tha's right, a _moron._ _We_ know, don't we?"

Daniel, his eyes wide, his whole body wriggling in his blankets and a huge toothless smile on his face, was lapping it up.

Sam stuck a hand in one of his jacket pockets, then held his closed hand out to Dean. Hitching one eyebrow, Dean balanced the baby in one arm and held his hand out. Sam dropped an iron nail into Dean's waiting palm. Dean looked at the nail, then back at Sam.

"Thanks, but I think I've still got plenty of my own. ... Sam. You're being completely weird bro'. _Way_ more than your _usual_ level of weird...What gives?"

"I...um. I..."

Dean stared at his brother.

"Ok. You're starting to freak me out now Sammy. Are you alright dude?"

It wasn't Sam who actually answered

"Do not worry. Your brother is fine. I imagine he must feel a little shaken that is all."

Both brothers about faced, Dean protectively enfolded the baby tighter in his arms. Daniel kicked and wriggled against Dean's hold, wanting to look at who this new voice belonged to, this very different voice which stirred something in his sound senses, that kind of sound was there when he felt hungry, when he felt wet and uncomfortable, when he wanted soothing. That type of sound meant he was safe. When Daniel _did_ manage to glimpse the female, he beamed and reached out towards her with his one free arm, the fingers of his hand curling and uncurling. He began to chuckle out loud in delight when he spotted the ever changing colours, and the star like pinpoints of light that flashed and sparked within her transparent wings.

"Am I right, Sam Winchester?"

-o-

Dean's eyes roamed covetously over the fey's form, appreciative of the lack of cover provided by the sentient silken web she wore. Tearing his eyes away, he stage whispered to his brother.

"It's _her_, isn't it? With the..._smile_."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"_Dean_! Seriously?"

The Sidhe Queen beckoned to Dean, signalling him to come closer.

"Let me look on this child that you would die for."

Sam received his second sucker punch when he watched in disbelief as Dean _instantly _appeared to become shy and uncertain_, hesitantly_ moving closer to the fey female. Mabb looked closely at the baby in Dean's arms, Daniel grinned up at the Sidhe Queen, and burped. Mabb frowned.

"I am unable to discern anything what-so-ever that makes this different, worthy. And yet, Dean Winchester, you gave up your own life so that it would be returned. I find that strange."

Dean shook his head, confused.

"No. I didn't. I'm right _here_..._Aren't I_?"

Mabb stretched out one arm and lightly trailed the back of her hand down one side of Dean's face.

"Yes, my brave, beautiful boy, you _are_ here. You are here through the love of your brother. A love given voice in a wish to a child, a wish with strength enough to be heard by Sidhe and Un-sidhe alike...And so it was granted."

Hearing the Queen's words, Sam immediately found himself trying to keep upright on legs that suddenly felt weak and unstable.

"But...What if...Shit!...What if I _hadn't_...?"

The Queen gazed back at the horrified Hunter, in the moon's light her eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement.

"But you _did_ boy child, therefore your worry serves no purpose. _However,_ you who are Thrice Fey Touched. Be aware that whilst-so-ever you live, should you or any of your kind pass uninvited into the lands of my beloved or I? Then what we have given, we _shall _take back ... Do we have an accord?"

Dean hesitated before giving a single nod of his head, agreeing to the terms he had been given.

-o-

The Sidhe Queen acknowledged Dean with a small bow of her head before she turned once more to Sam. As she spoke, she had already begun to fade and to become more transparent.

"I have been asked by the Master of the Un-sidhe fey to speak these words to you Sam Winchester ... _We mourn_."

**-o-o-o-**


	33. Chapter 33

_As if I would leave him dead! _:)  
**C33**

-o-o-o-

Neither brother spoke for a while after the Sidhe Queen faded from view, the only sound came from Daniel as he tried out the different noises that he could make with his mouth. Both Hunters felt uncertain, unsure what would be the appropriate thing to say. Sam in particular felt he needed his brother to speak first, so that he himself would know how best to proceed. As if having read his thoughts, Dean duly obliged.

"So, um. I died again, huh?"

Not looking at Dean and unable to trust his voice as yet, Sam nodded. Dean glanced down at the baby, in time to see him blow a bubble. Dean smiled.

"Gotta say, that Fey Queen was red hot! S'worth dieing, just to have got the chance to see _her_!"

Dean staggered sideways a few inches, bumped by his brother when Sam moved closer to his side and wrapped his arms around Dean as best he could with Daniel still being cradled by his brother. Unable to do much else, Dean moved one hand and patted Sam's arm by way of letting him know that the feeling was mutual.

-o-

Rubbing at his eyes, Sam at last released Dean and gathered himself together.

"We should take Daniel home to his folks now. You ready? "

Dean looked sadly at Daniel, holding the baby had brought up so many memories of Sam when _he_ was little, and of how Dean had to become mother, father and older brother to him. Dean would have liked to be able to spend some time interacting with the baby, forgetting the craziness of fuglies and humans alike and enjoying the simple pleasure of making little Daniel chuckle and smile, but Sam was right...It was time to take him home. And, after that, he guessed Sam would then start to follow him everywhere like an irritating stray puppy, saying they _needed to talk. _Dean smiled as Daniel tried to touch his face. Maybe this time he ought to shock Sam, and agree right from the off? He wondered whether Sam would throw sugar at him again if he said _yes _straight away?

-o-

Sam looked across to the corpse of the spider. It seemed to have shrivel into itself in death, making it appear smaller in his eyes, but still way to big to abandon there. He unintentionally sighed.

"What's up?"

"No, nothing. I guess we need to clear our litter away is all."

Dean followed Sam's gaze, the looked to the horizon and where the night sky was beginning to give way to dawn. He shook his head no.

"I say we leave it. If the freakin' fairy's want to stay off the board, let_ them_ do the tidy up. We'll just grab what's ours and go. Um, any clue where the invisible rope ended up?"

Sam nodded.

"It's either still round Pukey's neck, or it's gone. I remember the Queen called it a temporary gift. Whatever, let's just forget it. Ok Dean?"

Dean nodded.

"Fine. Like you said, I'd never find it again in my baby's trunk anyway."

-o-

By the time the brothers had strolled back to the Impala, the sky had become noticeably lighter and, without a cloud in view, it looked set to be a good day.

-o-

Parked up by the sidewalk, Dean in the driver's seat and with Sam nursing Daniel at the side of him, the Hunters stared at the frontage of Daniel's home. All the curtains and blinds were still closed. Dean spoke without turning.

"Looks like we'll be waking them up."

"Somehow I don't see that being a problem for them, do you?"

"No, I guess not."

"You ok there?"

Dean finally looked at Sam and the now sleeping baby.

"I dunno, it's odd. Part of me can't wait to see their faces and, bringing Danny boy home? That's just the _best_ but...Don't you _dare_ take the piss! I feel a bit..."

"Nervous? 'Cos that's how _I _feel right now."

Dean nodded thoughtfully,

"Yeah, nervous. ... Dumb huh?...C'mon bro, let's get this boy home."

-o-

Sam insisted that Dean carry the baby who was sleepily fighting to open his eyes whilst the brother's waited for someone to answer their knock. Sam shrugged.

"Heavy sleepers?"

He knocked again, longer and louder. This time a male voice called to them from inside the house.

"Who is it? Don't you know what time it is!"

"Um, Hi. It's er, it's Sam, and Dean. We've got some good news for you and your wife."

The brothers could hear an exchange between the man and a woman, the woman wanting to know who Sam and Dean were? Hushing her, reassuring her that it was ok, the door opened a crack and Daniel's dad peered outside through the narrow opening. Recognising Sam, door chains were removed, followed by the door being fully opened

-o-

Dean took half a step forward and held Daniel out towards his dad. The man froze to the spot, staring at the baby boy that Dean offered to him. Stunned, the man didn't reach to take the child, instead he looked up at Dean, shock clearly evident on the guy's face.

"You've found him! _My son_! You've found my son! _Daniel_! "

Before Dean could respond, Daniel's father was pushed to one side by his wife who was squeezing her body between the door frame and her husband in order to get to Dean. Once she was standing in front of the Hunter, her eyes greedily sought out those of her son. Mother and child made contact and, whilst the mother wept, the child turned on a 100watt smile. Sobbing openly, she held out her arms and, bending down, Dean gently handed Daniel back into her care.

-o-

He and Sam watched whilst the mother touched her baby's cheek with a trembling hand, almost as if she were checking that he was real. In return, little Daniel managed to grab hold of the woman's thumb and he immediately tried to put it in his mouth. The woman gave a short laugh through her tears whilst her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulder, crying and laughing at the same time.

"My boy...My beautiful little baby boy...My sweet Daniel."

**-o-o-o-**


	34. Chapter 34

_Thank you to everyone who has stayed for the full journey._

_Especially thank you to those of you who have left  
__feedback and comments, as always I've loved chatting. _

_And to those of you who are a constant source of support (you know  
__who you are), I'm so very grateful once again! You're amazing! __**:D  
**__Gotta go now, I seem to hear an oddly coloured brick road calling me __**;p**_

**C34  
****EPILOGUE**

-o-o-o-

Although Daniel's parents had invited the brother's into the family home, it was blatantly clear to both Sam and Dean that, whilst being more grateful than either of them could fully express, both parents desperately wanted time alone with their newly returned son and, so, the goodbyes and the promises, always so sincerely meant when they are made, were brief.

-o-

The brothers strolled in silence back to the car, each of them enjoying that feeling of a weight having been lifted from them that always came along with the satisfaction of a good outcome achieved, and a successful hunt completed. A small smile crept onto Sam's lips. Next would come breakfast. Dean was always hungry when a hunt ended well. He wondered how his brother would feel about going back to Grace's diner? Sam knew they would be welcome there and anyway, they'd be doing Grace a favour, giving her someone to fuss over. Sam's smile broadened, _he_ wouldn't object to some fussing and looking after right now. 'Course, they might have to get showered and changed first. At the Impala, Sam stole a glance across at Dean, checking out what state his clothes were in, whether or not he was presentable. After all, he _had _spent some time under a giant spider's butt. Sam stared.

"_Dean_! Son-of-a...!"

-o-

About to climb into the driver's side, Dean stopped dead. Instantly on the alert at the shock he heard in Sam's half sentence, his head swivelled as he glanced left, right and behind, looking for what or who had caused Sam's shock reaction.

"Where? What is it?

"_You_!"

"Huh?"

Sam was by now striding towards his older brother and Dean automatically took a step back, both hands raised in response to the look of sheer determination on Sam's face.

"Um...Sammy?"

Sam made a grab for Dean's left forearm.

"When did _this_ happen? Why didn't you tell me? You shouldn't be driving. Hand over the keys. This could need a...?..?..."

-o-

It was the first time that Sam had really took notice of the ripped and bloody state of Dean's clothing around his left shoulder, then he also spotted a jagged edged tear in Dean's tee and could see the blood underneath. Holding his squirmy brother in place, his other hand shot out and quickly peeled Dean's shredded shirt back, following up by pulling the neck of Dean's equally torn tee to one side, his face instantly screwed up into a confused frown.

"What the _Hell_?"

Dean twisted his neck to look down at himself. Underneath the wreckage of his clothing and the caked on dry blood, was perfectly intact skin. Whilst Dean was distracted staring at the lack of chewed up shoulder, Sam made a grab for the bottom of Dean's tee and quickly tugged it up, revealing Dean's midriff.

"Hey! _Leggo_!"

Dean began battering at his brother's all too gropey hands, trying to swat them away as though Sam was a particularly annoying hornet. Sam did release the tee and back off, but not until he managed to confirm for himself that, whatever injury had been hidden beneath Dean's torn tee, it was no longer there.

Letting go of his brother's clothing, Sam took a step back, looking thoughtful. Haughtily tugging his tee back down, Dean glared at Sam.

"You _do_ know the rest of the country_ doesn't_ think attacking people and stripping them _naked_ in public qualifies as _normal_ behaviour?"

"You aren't naked."

Sam bent down and hitched up the leg of his own jeans where Black Annis had gouged his calf, and again found the injury had gone. It was at that moment, he realised he hadn't suffered any of the previous abdominal cramping that, combined with the bruising, had told a worrying story of possible internal bleeding caused by the kicks of the Pooka.

"They're all healed! _We're_ all healed."

Dean grunted.

"Bloody _least _those fairy freaks could do. On top of deciding to grant your wish of course...About that. Thanks bro'. I'm really glad you went for _that _wish, instead of wishin' for a bigger..."

"_Don't _say it, jerk!"

Dean grinned mischievously.

"I'm just sayin' is all. I'd've understood, you know? I wouldn't've blamed you if you _had_ wished for a bi..."

"Dean, I'm _warning_ you! Just get in the car why don't you?"

"Shower then breakfast over at Grace's?"

It was Sam's turn to grin.

"Exactly what _I_ was thinking."

-o-

At the diner, a young woman in her early twenties glanced up from the celebrity magazine she had been avidly digesting. Seeing the pair of honest-to-goodness hunks stroll in and head to one of the back booths, Karen abandoned her mag and gave thanks to whatever supreme being there might be that it was just that bit too early for the diner to be anything like busy, giving her plenty of time to focus on these two. Convinced that the two guys_ had_ to be actors or models, she removed her gum, hitched her skirt up a little higher, gave her lips a quick lick to shimmer them up, adopted her best Beckham sulky siren pout, straightened her posture and gave it her much practiced catwalk supermodel strut as she headed for the delectable duo's table. Her usual voice tone was lowered just a fraction and she added in what _she_ thought was just the right amount of Monroe breathiness.

"Good morning gentlemen. My name is Karen and I'm your waitress today. Are you seeing anything that either of you fancy?"

Sam turned away from the panting woman, who sounded like she'd just completed a hundred yard sprint, to look back over his shoulder at the cash till, hoping to spot Grace. Dean jumped in to cover him and asked the question on both their minds.

"Hi, um, _Karen_. Is Grace at work today?"

-o-

Karen looked surprised, then frowned, immediately feeling both curious and suspicious enough to loose her sprinting Monroe pant.

"Yeah. Grace's here. She's on her break right now. Why?"

Sam gave the woman a reassuring smile.

"If you could just telling her that two friends of hers are here to say hi before movin' on and would love for her to come and take their order? That would be great."

Karen's frown relaxed a little.

"And Grace's gonna know who you are, is she?"

Sam smiled up at Karen, increasing her innate curiosity when she saw sadness in the hunk's eyes despite his smile, and the remnants of her suspicion dispersed.

"Tell her it's her friends from the car park. She'll understand."

Karen's eyebrows raised.

"_Ahh! _You're the black car guys? Grace said you were friends of hers. I'll go get her for you."

Forgoing her catwalk act, Karen hurried off to get Grace, desperate to find out just how she knew these two guys and whether she could wangle an out of work introduction.

-o-

Order pad in hand and a delighted smile on her face, Grace rushed out of the back of the diner and made her way straight over to Sam and Dean.

"Well, well! It's _lovely_ to see the both of you again. Not bothered to take the time to get your hair cut yet I see? You'll be on telly doing one of those shampoo adverts if it gets any longer...And Dean, I dread to _think_ what _you've_ been up to. You're looking tired my boy, you need to get more sleep. In fact, my darlings, you _both_ look worn out. I'm betting the two of you went out partying all night long? Young you might be, but you _still _need to get more rest...And when's the last time _either _of you ate properly? _No_...Don't tell me. It was when you were here last, right? Well then, _that's _something I can put straight in no time at all, let's get you both sorted out. What's tickled your fancy today? I'll make sure the cook puts extra on your plates, two big boys like you _need_ extra...I'm assuming you _are _having something to eat while you're here?"

Dean grinned up at the woman.

"Hi Grace, good to see you too. I had to come in again, there's somethin' I need to ask you...Will you marry me? I'm not rich, but I promise to eat up every meal you cook and to let you look after me always. How's that sound? You up for it?"

"Whoa! Hold on Dean...What about _me_? Grace, how would you feel about sharing?"

Grace laughed and a blush spread over both her cheeks.

"Well,_ I_ could probably cope, but I'm not sure how my hubby would react. He's had me to himself all these years, he might find it hard to adjust!

Her eyes sparkling, Grace gazed fondly at the brothers.

"It's good to see you both smiling. Karen said you're moving on?"

The Hunters exchanged glances before Sam answered.

"That's right. We'll be hitting the road again after breakfast, but we both wanted to say goodbye...And thank you, you know?"

"You're both very welcome I'm sure. Now, it's not officially goodbye yet, not till you've eaten. I sure hope the both of you are hungry?

Dean gave his brother a wink.

"Well...Can't speak for Sammy here, but I know _I'm _so hungry, I'm pretty sure I could easily force down a whole horse!"

**FIN  
**_Thank you __**so**__ much for reading.  
__It's __**never **__too late for comments if you feel the urge. ;p Chick xxx_

_*I'm off to see the wizard...tra la laa*_


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